Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924081814455 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY SAMUEL TUKE. Samuel Tuke; HIS LIFE, WORK, AND THOUGHTS. m. EDITED BY CHARLES TYLOR. WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDON : HEADLEY BROTHERS, 14, BISHOPSGATE STREET WITHOUT, E.C. 1900. HEADLEY BROTHERS, PRINTERS, LONDON AND ASHFORD, KENT. PREFACE. Samuel Tiike died in 1857. In i860 a Memoir, comprising his diary, memoranda, letters, etc., was printed in two volumes for the use of the family. The present biography consists mainly of selections from this memoir. Seldom has the Church known a succession, in one family, of guardians and witnesses of truth and pubhc benefactors, such as is seen in the three generations of Tukes in York — William, Henry, and Samuel. The present editor, who had the advantage of a personal acquaintance with Samuel Tuke, and was present at the Yearly Meeting when he was Clerk, regards it as a high jirivilege to help to place before the public his wise thoughts and his laborious, godly life. Many may regret that the example and thoughts of such a man were not made known to the world forty years ago. The times are indeed changed ; but whilst we may thankfully acknowledge that some advances have been made towards that Christian ideal for which vi. PREFACE. Samuel Tuke longed, theie are still amongst us many evil tendencies and dangers on account of which his wise counsel and earnest pleadings may be very appro- priate. The editor is indebted for valuable assistance to members of the family and other friends, to whom he has much pleasure in tendering his cordial thanks. Brighton, Third Month, igoo. CONTENTS. I. William Tuke i II. Henry Tuke - 14 III. SamuelTuke— Childhood AND Youth 21 IV. The Wilberforce Election, 1807. Marriage, 1810 31 V. Diary, iSio — 1812 38 VI. Description of the Retreat — Death of Henry and Mary Maria Tuke — Diary, 1813 — 1815 48 VII. Diary, 1814— 1816 56 VIII. Diary, 1817 — 18 19 — Letters 62 IX. Home Life : Recollections by Samuel Tuke's Daughter Maria - 70 X. Death of William Tuke— Samuel Tuke a Minister of the Gospel — Visit Tp Paris — Diary — Letters. 1822— 1828 - ^^ XI. Illness and Death of Samuel Tuke's Wife — His Children at School- Yearly Meeting — Letters. 1827 — 1831 86 CONTENTS. XII. Visit to Cumberland and West- moreland — Friends' Provident Institution — Death of Samuel Tuke's Daughter Sarah. 1831, 1832 XIII. Letters — Samuel Tuke Invited to Represent York in Parliament — Speech at the General Election, 1833 XIV. Clerk to the Yearly Meeting — "The Beacon." 1832— 1835 XV. The Lancashire Committee — The Separation. 1835 — 1837 XVI. Letters arising out of " The Beacon " Controversy. 1835 — 1839 XVII. Letters. 1836 — 1840- XVIII. Letters. 1841— 1846 XIX. The Retreat — Education. 1840 — 1846 XX. The Fine Arts XXI. Ireland. 1846, 1847 XXII. Notes of Conversations by his Daughter Maria.- 1848 XXIII. Letters. 1847, 1848— The Revolu- tion OF 1848 XXIV. Letter — Sermon — Death of Samuel Tuke's Sister Maria. 1848 95 104 116 125 136 149 155 163 172 179 189 195 204 CONTENTS. ix. CHAPTER. PAGE. XXV. Failing Health — Thoughts in the Prospect of Death — Mental Temperament — Memoranda of Conversations. 1848, 1849 - 211 XXVI. Letters. 1849 225 XXVII. Letters. 1850 — 1853 236 XXVIII. Increased Illness— Death of his son Henry. 1853 — 1855 248 XXIX. Character— Last Days. 1857 254 XXX. Occasional Thoughts 263 Family Table 275 Index to Names 277 Index to Subjects - 281 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE. Portrait of Samuel Tuke Frontispiece Portrait of Mary Maria Scott (afterwards Tuke) 19 The House, in Ousegate, where Samuel Tuke WAS Born 21 Portrait of Henry Tuke 53 Samuel Tuke's Residence, Lawrence Street, Garden Front 72 Portrait of William Tuke 77 Portrait of Priscilla Tuke, with Two of her Children, James and Elizabeth 88 The Retreat, as it was Originally 164 I. WILLIAM TUKE. THE Tuke family were amongst the early followers of George Fox in the city of York. William Tuke, who died in 1669, twice suffered imprisonment for conscience' sake. His great grandson of the same name was remarkable as a boy for Spartan firmness of char- acter. In an unfinished sketch of his life by his grandson, the subject of this biography, the follow- ing anecdote is related of him : " He had climbed up into a tree in a church- yard, just within the city walls, in search of a bird's nest, and losing his hold he fell on to the pavement. The height was not great, but he found his head very much hurt, and with some difficulty walked home. He once pointed out to me a part of a street through which he passed in his way, where he recol- lected attempting to hop, but this exercise he found too violent to be borne. On getting home, appre- hending his parents' displeasure, he did not mention what had occurred, but his mother soon perceived 2 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. that he was ill, and her anxiety led her to send for a medical man. The young patient, however, still concealed the occasion of his complaint, and kept his hat on to avoid the observation of the state of his head. At length a person came into the shop and inquired'of his mother after her son Billy, and spoke of having seen him fall from a tree. The secret was now discovered. On removing his hat, his head was found to be much injured, and an eminent surgeon being sent for, he pronounced the skull to be fractured, and immediately performed the operation of trephining." William Tuke came upon the scene at a time when the state of the church in the Society of Friends was the very reverse of that in which his ancestor had played his part. Ease and worldly prosperity had taken the place of suffering and of zeal for the spread of the Gospel. The low condi- tion of the Society about the year 1760, and the part which William Tuke took in its revival, are set forth by his grandson in the above mentioned sketch. The change of heart which fitted him for this work was brought about through the death of his wife three days after the birth of their fifth child. His love for her was intense, and when he found she was gone, " he threw himself on the bed by her side, with one of his little ones in his arms, and broke forth into loud sobs and tears." " It was not, however," says Samuel Tuke, " only the withering up of his cherished gourd, the THE LOW CONDITION OF THE CHURCH. 5 removal of his most pleasant and most precious earthly treasure, which thus worked upon his feel- ings. The view of himself, his past life and his present state, opened before him with all the power of truth, awakening the conscience to the most lively remorse. It was probably the Bethel in his journey of life — the place of vows and prayer. " I much doubt," he continues, "whether prior to this change of character my grandfather had been in the habit of attending the meetings for the discipline of the Society. He now, however, appears to have done so, and to have thought it right at times to express an opinion on passing matters. It was just at the period when the discipline of our Society was at the very lowest point. It had come in many places (and truly York was not an exception) to be managed, not only by a few, but also by dry, formal members, wholly unable rightly to sympathize with the awakened, or with those who err and are out of the way. He conceived that the discipline was far from being conducted in the spirit of its institution. He saw that laxity, partiality, formality, and perhaps spiritual pride, had crept into its proceedings, and he often believed it his duty to oppose the course which the principal members of the meeting were disposed to adopt. My grandfather's spirit was stirred within him while he witnessed the perversion of the righteous instrument for the education of the body in love. The old men sometimes treated his expostulations with contempt, telling the Clerk not 4 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. to mind what he had said. He spoke not, however, for human praise, but to relieve his mind of a burden in the cause of truth and justice, and he was not dismayed. Patiently pursuing his, conscientious course, his strength of mind and the influence of his character could not fail to increase. "About this time, viz., in the year 1761, the state of the Society generally, more especially in regard to the discipline, claimed the close attention of the Yearly Meeting, and a number of the more judicious Friends were solicited to visit the several Quarterly and Monthly Meetings throughout the kingdom. This visit may justly be considered as an important epoch in the history of the Society. The evils which prevailed in York in the administration of the disci- pline, and more especially that of laxity, were very general ; and there is reason to believe that this seasonable visit gave to its exercise a most salutary stimulus, and that the pious labours of those who were engaged in it were in many places the means of stirring up the pure mind by way of remem- brance, and strengthening those things which re- mained and were ready to die. " In their attendance of the Monthly and Quarterly Meeting of York, several occasions offered in which the difference of sentiment and feeling between my grandfather and his friends was deve- loped ; and the visitors concurred so decidedly in the general views of the former that his influence, and consequently his usefulness in the concerns of THE YEARLY MEETING'S COMMITTEE OF 176 1. 5 the discipline, became much increased.^ It cannot be doubted that the opposition which my grand- father thus met with in his reHgious course, as well as the disappointments in his schemes of earthly enjoyment, had a very beneficial effect upon his character. They formed a school in which he was rendered humble and patient, yet enduring and persevering. He proved how good it is for a young man to ' bear the yoke,' to be inuixd to hardship." Ten years later, William Tuke, then become one of the leading members of the Society, took an active part in the Yearly Meeting. The divine character and offices of our Lord being at this time called in question in some places, he was foremost in main- taining the sound belief of the Society from the beginning, in opposition to the attempt to identify the teaching of the early Friends with the doctrines of Socinus. In after years he was able to rejoice in the almost unanimous confession of the truth, which was elicited from Friends of all ages and from every part of the kingdom. Previously to the time last spoken of, viz., in 1765, William Tuke married again. The object of his I The visits of a portion of the committee, including that to Yorkshire, are described in the journal of John Griffith, and form a very interesting, though sad picture of the state of tlie Cliurch. Note the manner in which the Committee was appointed at the Yearly Meeting, as an indication of the mind of the Society at that period (p. 367). The visitation was followed by the disownment of a great number of Friends, especially in the rural districts, on account of conduct contrary to sound morals. See S. Tuke's Five Papers on Education, p. 84. 6 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. choice, Esther Maud, was a woman of no common mould. Samuel Tuke says of her : " She was lively and spirited, and had a natural facetiousness and at the same time a dignity of mien which gave her an invincible influence over the minds of young per- sons." Her conduct in her new position was so judicious that the love borne to her by her step- children was scarcely less strong than that of her own daughters. Samuel Tuke has left some further recollections of his grand-parents. " There was very little in the family of what is called religious instruction ; and religious doctrines were rarely, if ever, the subject of the parlour chit-chat. The free use of the sacred name and the introduction of deep and mysterious subjects into familiar conversation, were very offen- sive to my grandfather. He thought the former practice indicated a want of that proper reverence for the Supreme Being which so essentially pro- motes obedience ; and the latter appeared to him to imply a want of that experimental acquaintance with sacred things, without which no true knowledge can be obtained, and, if it could, would be of no avail. He had been trained up in a school of strict sim- plicity and sincerity, especially in regard to religious expression, and was perhaps one of the finest models of it. But when religious svibjects arose in a manner which he thought consistent with simplicity, no one hailed them more than he did. His house was the resort of most of the Friends who travelled in the ESTHER TUKE. 7 ministry, and opportunities of religious intercourse in the family frequently occurred during these visits. What was said on these occasions seldom led to any kind of religious discussion. It was received more by the heart than by the head, and its deficiencies or superabundancies were but little considered, if it bore upon it the stamp of genuine. He was, how- ever, so far from judging others, that he numbered among his particular friends persons of very different habits from those which I have mentioned." By his first marriage William Tuke had three sons, Henry, William and John, and two daughters, Sarah and Elizabeth. By his second wife he had two daughters, Ann and Mabel. Esther Tuke's sympathies extended beyond her duty to her husband and children. She ably seconded Rebecca Jones (from America), in the foundation in 1784 of the Women's Yearly Meeting. The Women Friends were accustomed indeed to meet at the same time as the men, but had never been constituted a Meeting of administration or record.i Being concerned for the intellectual and religious training of the daughters of Fi'iends, she believed it I The deputation of women Friends to lay ttJfe matter before the Yearly Meeting consisted of thirteen, nine English and four American. They pleaded their cause energetically and success- fully. At the next sitting, a minute granting their request was made, and was taken into the Women's Meeting by three Friends, of whom William Tuke was one. See Allinson's Memorials of Rebecca Jones, pp. 64, 65. 8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. to be hei" duty to establish, the same year, a school for girls at York, which should afford an education somewhat superior to that at Ackworth (opened seven years previously). In the management of it she had the assistance of her husband and her daughters : for several yeai's the only paid officer was the sewing mistress. The religious improve- ment of the mind, and the training in true simplicity of manners were the primary objects, and everything was made subservient to these great ends.^ "The domestic evening readings in the school family," writes Samuel Tuke, " were solemn and in- structive. Three, if not four, members of it became ministers during their service in the school. The visits of Friends travelling in the ministry had, it is behaved, a profitable influence on the children. I have no doubt that the longing desires of the care- takers were often, or at least often appeared to themselves to be, disappointed ; yet, having known the institution well, and the scholars who passed through it and have survived to rather a recent period, I have no hesitation in expressing the senti- ment that the lively piety of its founders in their educational exertions was blessed in no common degree ; yet let me leave a word of warning to my friends not to suppose that by money and good wishes they can produce the same effects." From memoranda left by Samuel Tuke and by I It was for this school Lindley Murray wrote his English Grammar. SARAH ROBERT GRUBB. 9 some members of the family, we may form a pretty complete picture of William Tuke's household : " To a strong natural understanding, his daughter Sarah added a delicacy and depth of feeling which made her a peculiarly interesting companion. Possessing by nature a qtiick sense of all that was ^ood to know, and a strong will to pursue whatever her eye and heart desired, she found the conflict between flesh and spirit very severe. There was something within her which would be speaking of the highest and most enduring things, and contrast- ing them with the perishing delights which seemed to her ' so good for food and so much to be desired to make one wise.' Whilst yet in her teens, how- ever, the holy decision was made ; she saw the rvanity of all which earth could give, in comparison with the excellence there is in Christ." At an early age she married Robert Grubb of Clonmel, then residing in York, and soon came to be known both for the power of her Christian ministry, and as the founder of Suir Island School for the daughters of Irish Friends. She died at the early age of thirty- four. The testimony of those who best knew her in Ireland, was that her conduct was uniformly con- sistent with her holy profession. Elizabeth, afterwards Elizabeth Wheeler, the second daughter, partook of the good sense and relig- ious character of her sister. Ann became, when quite a child, "the subject of strong religious impressions. Naturally, she was of that ardent, sanguine tempera- 10 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. ment, with a tinge of the melancholy, which is easily attracted by the imaginative, the sublime, and the pathetic. Left to itself," observes Samuel Tuke, "this kind of mind is apt to live really for itself, and often on itself. Nothing, indeed, seems sufficient to correct this tendency to a refined selfishness but the powerful principle of Christianity, which, received in living faith, presents another and a higher object, worthy of the devotion of the whole mind, and of all the affections. Then the Saviour, and, in time, all for whom He lived and died, draw the heart from the absorption of self-love ; and its course frequently becomes one of diffusive philanthropy, and of a religious activity which, by colder hearts, is often deemed an incomprehensible zeal, or an enthusiastic devotion. Such may be said," S. T. continues, " to have been the after course of the little maid of nine years old of whom I have been speaking." At the age of eighteen she was described by her eldest sister as sagacious, religious, and firm as a rock; and her love for Christ, and her zeal in his cause, were conspicuous among her younger associates. She became a minister, and travelled in that capacity in England, Ireland, and America. She married William Alexander of Needham Market. They re- moved to York, where, for a short time, they succeeded William and Esther Tuke in the direction of the girls' school. In 1813 Ann Alexander com- menced the publication of a little diary and obituary of Friends called The Annual Monitor, which has MABEL HIPSLEY. ir been of great service to the Society, and is continued to the present day. Mabel, the youngest daughter, was " a lively, witty child, the little beauty of the family, ready with her repartees, not over fond of her books, but possessed of an intuitive quickness of perception. Her eye, it is said, was singularly beautiful, and it was difficult to determine whether it expressed more fully the deepest affections of the heart or the lively sallies of the understanding." She married John Hipsley of Hull, a man of sound judgment and strong will, tempered with extreme tenderness of feeling. To his deep interest in education, the school at Rawdon for children connected with Friends but not eligible for Ackworth School, owed its founda- tion. Like her sisters, Mabel Hipsley was a minister of the Gospel. She attained the venerable age of 94, Of the three sons, Henry was the only one who lived at home ; he was associated with his father in his business, which was that of a wholesale tea-dealer. Henry's future wife, writing of her first visit to the house, in 1779, says: "The family consists of Esther Tuke, her husband, three daughters, a son and a young maid-servant, with an apprentice. They have, I fancy, no outward dependence but trade and economy ; but their liberal notions are not to be described ; for they and their possessions are wholly their friends'. They are marvellously delivered from this world's wisdom. William Tuke 12 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. seemed to me to sit in the wisdom and glory of Solomon ; and entering a little into it was a treat beyond the natural taste." In the year 1791, William Tuke's attention was directed to the treatment of the insane. Down to that time those who were afflicted with brain disease were usually treated in an ignorant, brutal manner which was a disgrace to humanity. William Tuke, simultaneously with Pinel in France, conceived the idea of substituting for this, a system of intelligent care, kindness, and sympathy. It was a change from darkness to light ; and the experiment, as is well known, was crowned with success. In 1792 an asylum for the insane of the Society of Friends was established at York. Strange as it may seem, it was a long time before the general concurrence of the Society was enlisted on its behalf ; and it was only by patient perseverance under a conscien- tious conviction of duty, that the founder was enabled to overcome the obstacles to the institution, and the difficulties which presented themselves in its early management. "All men," he wrote, "seem to desert me in matters essential." " He was greatly helped by the pers"uasive tact of his son Henry, who supplied the stiaviter in modo which was lacking in his IzXhex's fortiter in re." A Swiss physician. Dr. Delarive, who visited the Retreat not long after it was opened, was struck with its attractive, homelike appearance. " It gives you, he says, no idea whatever of a place of confine- THE RETREAT. 13, ment, but rather of a large rural farm surrounded by a garden. There is no bar or grating to the windows." 1 The perfecting of the treatment of the insane largely occupied William Tuke during the remainder of his life and was shared by his son Henry. The devoted labour was continued throughout their livea by his grandson Samuel Tuke, the subject of this- memoir, and by his great-grandson Dr. Daniel Hack Tuke, the author of many works on the history and treatment of the insane. I Dr. Delarive's description was published in 1798. Pinel, who had been at work in the same cause five years, now heard of the Reti"eat for the first time ; and it was not till 1806 that William Tuke became acquainted with the great work which Pinel was. carrying on at the Bicetre. History of the Insane in the British Isles; by Daniel H. Tuke, M.D., 1882, pp. 116-118. II. HENRY TUKE. WILLIAM TUKE'S eldest son Henry, although partially eclipsed by the more imposing figure of his father, who outlived him upwards of eight years, and of his son, the subject of this memoir, was a man no less looked up to for his force of character than he was beloved for the qualities of his heart. "As a child," writes Samuel Tuke, "he was of a very lively temperament, with very strong affections ; loving warmly and resenting promptly. His first lessons of instruction were derived from his mother, of whom he had very affectionate recollections, but of whose tender care he was deprived when he was about six years old. He afterwards attended for some years one of the principal day schools in York, where he was distinguished among his schoolmates as a clever and goodnatured but high-tempered lad ; and many a pugilistic encounter had he with boys of his own or superior age, until he had established that character for spirit and vigour which is so desirable HENRY TUKE'S SCHOOL-DAYS. 15 an attainment to the natural mind. When about twelve years of age he was placed by his father at a boarding-school at Sowerby, near Thirsk, kept by a Friend of the name of Ellerby, a man of considerable learning, and of decided and lively piety. " Ellerby soon conceived a strong affection for liis new pupil, who in the first place interested him greatly by the length of time which he continued to weep for his separation from home, but who, when his time of mourning was over, became greatly attached to his master, and interested in the pursuits ■of the school. Besides the English branches, the I^atin and Greek languages were taught ; and my father made a very respectable progress in the former tongue, and acquired a little knowledge of the latter, both of which acquirements were very useful to him in after life.^ It appears that whilst he was at this I EUerby's terms, Latin and Greek included, but not writing, were ;£io per annum. A bill, from 4 mo. 28 to 10 mo. 28, 1760, has ieen preserved. There would seem to have been no vacation. £ s. d. To half a year's board and schooling - 5 Writing Master, extraordinary 2 74 Dillworth's Arithmetic I 6 A Grammar 1 3 Buckles, 6d. ; penknife, 6d. ; teaspoons, id. I I Postage of a letter, 2jd. ; a brush, sJd. 6 Paper, ink and quills 4 44 Clothes and shoes mending 2 II "Worsted, ij, ; carriage of box, is. I ij £i 15 44 i6 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. school, and about thirteen years of age, a change took place in the tenor of his conduct. Something had evidently been at work on his mind, subjecting it to a new principle of action, and inducing greater circumspection of conduct than had heretofore marked him, although previously esteemed a well- conducted scholar. The influence of these youthful impressions, cherished, as I believe they were, by the Christian counsel and example of his pious master, was never entirely effaced." Ellerby died just at the time when his pupil was to leave school. Henry's mind was set on the study of medicine, but his father wished him to settle down with him in his business. With- out hesitation the son gave up his own will, asking only that he might for a while assist his master's widow in the management of the school. Although only thirteen his character was so far formed that his sympathy and services were of great advantage to his mistress, whilst the lengthening of his scholastic life was of no little benefit to himself. In 1772, when Henry was in his eighteenth year, there came to York a gospel messenger, of humble station and deportment, but so distinguished for his conscientious fulfilment of Christ's commands and for sympathy with the poor and the oppressed, as to obtain for him the title of an apostle. This was John Woolman, from America. He travelled entirely on foot, and young Henry Tuke was sent to meet him at his last stopping-place, and be his guide and com- HENRY TUKE AND JOHN WOOLMAN. 17 panion into the city. Tlie travelling ministers of tiie Society, as already stated, were usually the guests of William Tuke ; but John Woolman chose the hospi- tality of a Friend (Thomas Priestman) who lived a little way out, in what he (J. W.) called the clean country. "I have," writes Samuel Tuke, "frequently heard my father speak of this walk with John Wool- man, of the indescribable sweetness of J. W.'s company and the pleasure with which he remembered it." After good service at the Quarterly Meeting, John Woolman was seized with the small-pox and died in a few days. He was tenderly nursed through his distressing illness. One of those who waited upon and sat up with him was Henry Tuke's sister Sarah, of whom we have spoken above. On her giving him something to allay his thirst he said, " My child thou seems very kind to me, a poor helpless creature ; the Lord will reward thee for it." A while after she heard him cry out, " Oh, my Father, my Fathei^, how comfortable art Thou to my soul in. this trying season 1 " This intercourse with such a man had a lasting effect on both Sarah and her brother. It led the latter to feel a deeper interest in the wrongs of the slave and in other subjects with which the- tender, self-sacrificing mind of the messenger had been occupied. In this way he was matured into increased devotedness of spirit to the will of God and to the ardent pursuit of whatsoever things are true, pure and of good report. " I almost seem to see him," writes Samuel Tuke, 1 8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. " lively, yea joyous, in his deportment ; for he really did enjoy and gratefully partake of the good things of this life, and of none more than those which are connected with the social affections. These enjoyments were heightened as well as chastened, I believe, by his hopes and love being pre-eminently set upon those things which belong to the life which is to come. His father saw all his hopes more than realized in respect of his son being likely to assist him in his business ; Henry was active, competent and, I need not add, confidential. He proved indeed a very valuable helper." Mary Maria Scott was the eldest child of Favill Scott, a solicitor of Norwich. She mixed in fashion- able society, and in what she afterwards regarded as gay life, until the age of twenty-nine when she met with Peiin's No Cross No Crown ; ai:id although she is said to have read very little in it, it produced a desire to know something of the Society of which Penn had been so prominent a member, and to attend their meetings for worship. In order to do this she paid a visit to her grandmother at Bawtry, on the border of Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire. At Norwich there was a large meeting of Friends, but it is thought her wish to avoid publicity where she was so well known, was the cause of her seeking a more retired place. Finding no meeting of Friends at Bawtry she went on to Doncaster, and thence to Sheffield, where, says her future sister, Elizabeth Tuke, she stayed two days under great exercise of MARY MARIA SCOTT. MARY MARIA SCOTT. 19 mind during which she attended one meeting ; but her relations, being exceedingly uneasy about her, went and took her away. Elizabeth Tuke says of her : " She was replete with the art of pleasing, and her soft engaging disposition was enlivened with the sprightliness of wit, tempered with solidity of faculties. Having been formerly vain in her apparel she thought it her duty to throw off all superfluity of dress ; and now appeared in a coarse serge gow^n with long sleeves, a blue woolsey apron, and every other article suitable thereto. But she lays no more stress on these things than as being cheapest, and answering the usefulness of apparel, and allowing more money for charitable purposes." 1 When she returned to Bawtry and found there was a meeting at Blyth, about three miles distant, she attended it diligently, going on foot ; and when Balby Monthly Meeting was held at Warmsworth, she walked the twelve miles in time for the meeting that morning. Some Sheffield Friends inviting her to go home with them, she was prevailed upon to do so ; and Esther Tuke meeting her there, gave her an invitation to York, which she very diffidently accepted. It so happened that on arriving at William Tuke's I Many years afterwards Mary Maria Tuke wrote : " I do not think it is right for Friends to render themselves so particular. It clouds religion — I am sure it does ; at least it describes it in false colours. True religion should point at the one thing needful, and not have so many intermediate signs : for who can believe that the Almighty requires a woman to wear a particular hat, and what can it lead to or point to ? " 20 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. house, his son Henry, her future husband, assisted her in dismounting from her horse. Some letters to her mother whilst she was at Bawtry show the work which was going on in the heart of Mary Maria Scott, and the love and confi- dence which existed between mother and daughter. "You have given me leave to do whatever could make me happy. Do not, my tender mother, be uneasy, but trust me to God, who if I am faithful will teach me in all things ; and then how happy shall I be." In another letter she wrote : " It is not in my power to acknowledge, as I ought, your repeated acts of affection towards me. I cannot help wishing you could see or know the felicity I taste through the Almighty's dawnings upon my soul." She seems to have gone to William Tuke's for only a passing visit ; she remained there two years, during which time she was admitted a member with Friends, and accepted an offer of marriage from Henry Tuke. On hearing of her daughter's engagement, Barbara Scott wrote : " You will allow me to wish and hope that all you tell me of Mr. Tuke will fall to your lot. Tell him I give you, as a miser gives his gold — a treasure indeed. Oh that the Lord may make him love you as I do 1 " The marriage took place on the 20th of Ninth Month, 1781. SAMUEL TUKli'S BIRTHPLACE. On the Ouse Bank, between King's Staitli and the New Walk; the old walls of the Piiory form tlie luwer part of the house. III. SAMUEL TUKE— CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH. SAMUEL, the subject of this memoir, was the second child of Henry and Mary Maria Tuke, and was born on the 31st of the Seventh Month, 1784. He left a fragment of autobiography des- criptive of his infancy, and of the influence exercised over him by his parents : " With reference to the beginning of my life, I may truly say the lines fell to me in pleasant places. Though not born in the midst of wealth, every real want was provided for me, and I luxuriated in all the riches of maternal love, and in the warm affections of the kindest father. Both he and my mother were persons who feared God and served Him in their daily walk. They were also highly intelligent persons. My father was a man of sound, clear understanding, possessing a considerable share of energy, with affections which greatly endeared him to all who were connected with him in the intercourses of social life. His temperament was warm, or sanguine, with a slight touch of the melancholic : but he was re- markably cheerful and good-natured, although I have seen a momentary anger colour his cheek and alter the 22 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. expression of his dark, rich eye, which was usually expressive of a serene or warm benevolence. Never was it more strikingly so than when publicly engaged in his ministry, warning sinners, inviting wanderers into the fold, or offering the word of counsel and comfort to the believer. A child, who heard him preach in London, asked his mother, on their leaving the meeting, who the Friend was with the beautiful eyes. It was my happiness then, in veiy early life, to have a father who taught me the truth and made it appear lovely by his constant example, who; though he delighted to see me pleased and happy, exercised a steady gentle rule in all his household, and whose word was not to be gainsayed. " But what shall I say of my mother ? Never were parent and child bound more fondly together than we were. In my very early years I can remember, probably when she was ill, wishing that I might die if she did, and be buried in the same coffin. The bitterness, and withal the sweetness too, of some of these moments, are very fresh with me at this advanced age. And how I was wont to sit beside her, and listen to her lessons, which distilled into my heart like the dew ; albeit, I was not without strange opposing propensities and doubts. The Divine omniscience puzzled me much, when but com- paratively an infant ; and, on one occasion, I got under my mother's bed, and called to her that I had found a place where the Great Power could not see me ! and, on another occasion, I urged in defence of my doubts, the expression in Scripture that the Lord turned his back upon some people. My dear mother had no difficulty in giving a reasonable answer to my childish objections. She had, indeed, an extraordinary power of teaching by analogies, and of opening the hearts of her children to her instructions. But her chief dependence for the re- butting of my silly quibbles with respect to the attributes of God, appeared to rest on an appeal to my own con- S. TUKE'S RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS MOTHER. 23 scientious convictions, my inward sense of the power and goodness of Him whom I had been taught to call my Father in Heaven. She was not apt to impose truths dogmatically upon me, but rather waited for favourable moments of instilling them, as she watched, with intense interest, my opening mind. My questions frequently led to long conversations on matters which I had been thinking about and puzzled with, and these were often of a religious character ; but she saw how much many of the matters which occupied my thoughts were connected with an inward desire to quiet my conscience, and it was her great aim to lead me to recognize that which, when very young, convinced me of my naughty ways and thoughts, and made me feel sorry for them ; and I came to believe that God was round about my path, and that He did know all my secret ways and thoughts ; and this belief did more thoroughly solve my doubts respecting the Divine Being than any arguments or reasons which I ever heard. Indeed, though the works of creation, and especially the moon, travelling in her gentle majesty through the firmament, affected me so that I have wept with sentimental awe whilst looking on that beautiful and speaking orb, yet, as an evidence of Deity, these feelings were much less influential than that of which I have spoken above. " I early acquired the art of reading ; but I had no confidence in my own powers, and every new stage, such even as passing from two to three syllables in spelling, seemed to me impossible to be accomplished. My reading was chiefly of a religious character. My mother had considerable literary taste, and had read many of the best Enghsh authors. My parents were not, I am persuaded, without some ambition that their children might be honourable amongst men. But the one absorbing desire was that they might be really the 24 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. followers of Christ, conformed, assimilated to Him in all their ways. At six years of age I was acquainted with many parts of the Bible, and could read many passages, though I do not recollect ever learning them as a task. I could also repeat the hymns in Watts's smaller collection ; and I have a very clear recollection of the deep feeling with which I heard my mother read the Cradle Hymn, and the tenderness excited, on. many occasions, by the last stanza : — ' I could give thee thousand kisses.' It was difficult to say whether a sweet benignity, or a penetrating, powerful expression, were the most conspicuous in her countenance ; and the character of her mind was correctly set forth in her face. Her power of discovering the feelings of others was great, and her ability to enter into sympathy with them very remarkable. " I was a delicate child, with a good deal of nervous susceptibility, acutely sensible to pain of body. I cannot forget, now that fifty years have passed over, her power to soothe my troubles both of mind and body. The latter I will speak of first. In the arts of nursing she was inimitable. She saw everything that was wanted ; she threw her whole mind into the engagement as if she had no self; and the gentleness and elegance of her treatment, the ingenuity of her devices to soothe or to amuse, and all without any appearance of art or effort, almost made illness pleasant. There was a power to soothe in the action of her beautiful hand which I cannot describe. Often when I saw children in other families under little troubles or sickness, I could not but contrast their circumstances with my own, though I daresay in such cases there was everything done which was essential, and it . might be a question whether mine was the more healthy course. However, I must say that bodily indulgence was no part of ray mother's plan. Though few children were brought up so care- RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS MOTHER. 25 fully, perhaps still fewer were brought up with less pampering of the palate. Our diet was most simple and strict, and our regimen altogether without reference to mere sensual indulgence in any way. Indeed I know we were sometimes pitied on this account. " Her anxiety about the mind was no less striking than her care of the body. I have mentioned her penetration. Perhaps my mind was more easily read than many, but she seemed to me to know everything that was passing in it. This perception was not confined to childhood, but extended through my youth. Her conversations on religious subjects, frequently, I believe, induced by my inquiries, began as early as I can re- member anything distinctly. The omniscience of God, his love and care towards man, his intercourse even with children, enlightening their consciences, raising good desires towards Him, and having an open ear to all their cries, were the elements of her religious teach- ings. The minding of my conscientious convictions in regard to right and wrong in all my actions, examining myself daily as to how I stood in the Divine sight, con- fession and repentance, and the seeking of forgiveness from God, were early impressed upon me ; and I remember in my childish alarms and troubles that I seemed unintentionally to turn to God as my Heavenly Father, accompanied, however, with the vivid percep- tion of my state of mind, and often with many tears of contrition. I should have mentioned that God's hatred and punishment of sin were among the elements of my mother's early religious instructions ; and I remember her sometimes bringing home to my mind this great truth in a very affecting, yet not frightful way. The misery of herding with all the wicked of the earth, and banished from the Good Being, except it was to be under his frowns, made a powerful impression upon me : but this subject was not, I think, frequently referred to. 26 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. I cannot remember receiving much instruction in regard to what are called the peculiar doctrines of Christianity ; but the history of Christ in the New Testament, especially his childhood and sufferings, particularly interested me. " My mother was very careful as to our associates and the books we read. We read none which she had not carefully examined, and she would erase words or cut out parts which she did not think suitable for us. " During my childhood my mother was very much an invalid, and after a while was mostly confined to her chamber. Her pervading mind, however, embraced everything that was going on. Her room was the scene of much domestic enjoyment ; we generally met in it after dinner, and in the evening. My father always brought a healthful cheerfulness with him, and he loved the company of the young. Though a man of business, he was literary ; biblical studies were his favourite engagement. We had, generally, some book in reading together. The Monthly Review, and some of the pamphlets of the day, during the eventful period of the French war, were also read in my mother's room ; and the passing events in the great world, as well as those within our own circle, were freely conversed upon. My father and mother frequently differed in opinion, and held warm discussions together. We, also, took our parts. Characters in history were discussed. My father was a great admirer of Queen Elizabeth ; my mother disUked her. They differed also about Milton. The Paradise Lost was with my father all but canonical ; my mother had not the same estimation of it, except as a work of genius. " Little schemes and plans which were afloat were much talked of ; and my mother's peneti-ation was often strikingly evinced by her judgment as to the working of things, and the success of individuals. She was much CHILDHOOD. 27 interested in the establishment of the Retreat, and she gave it its name. When they were puzzling as to what should be its designation, she said, it should be a Retreat." As a child Samuel Take was exceedingly amiable ; his mother spoke of him as a " sweet-toned, instrument." Unlike his father, he was timid and easily subdued, and as has been already said it needed a great effort on his part to take up anything fresh. His mother, writing to his brother William, says, " I do not know when Sammy will acquire a dis- position to use his powers fully without some one to urge him forward ; he seems to be designed, like a watch, to be worn by the side of a friend." When once set going, however, he worked assiduously. His schoolmaster said of him : "In application he is not a boy but a young man." He enjoyed the company of older people. He was a great favourite with his grandfather, and the affection was reciprocated. When visiting him he was accustomed to go into his room early in the morning and spend some time by his bedside. When about seven years old he attended the girls' school kept by his grandparents. " In this new scene," he writes, " I gained a little experience of my own powers. I have a distinct recol- lection of warm religious feelings during the reading of the Scriptures and the journals of Friends, which took place once at least in the day. My grandmother, or some other member of the family, (for it was a family of prophets,) not unfrequently addressed the young people 28 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. in words which soi^ht for utterance from the heart, and which often touched the hearts to which they were addressed." He was sent in 1792 to Ackworth School, an institution to which in after life he devoted a large amount of care and labour. The i-ecollection of his Ackworth experience often came before him. Once when he had been reading John Churchman's Life, he remarked that he could not but think there is less at the present day of what is there spoken of as " tendering " or " being reached " by the ministry, than there was when he was young. He then said : " I think the children were much more liable to be affected by what was said in meeting than they are now ; whether it is that their little minds are so full of knowledge now, I don't know, and that the criticizing powers are more brought into use. I remember thinking I must be very hard, because 1 was not affected as many wei"e. There were many very bad boys in the school ; but there was a little band of reformers, who were, I believe, really seeking to do right." At another time he said : " When I was a child, any good feelings I had in meeting were much more from within than from without." From Ackworth he went to the school at Hitchin kept by George Blaxland. The circumstance of his aunt Elizabeth Wheeler residing there pro- bably determined his parents in the choice of this school. There was with Samuel Tuke remarkably little love of money for its own sake, no inclination to be JOINS HIS' FATHER TN HIS BUSINESS. 29 miserly. This disposition showed itself in very early life. "While I was at school," he once said, "when I had reahzed ten shillings profit, with my partner Pease, I immediately gave up the trade, feeling myself to have gained a fortune, and therefore to have no further need of business. I remember when I was a very Httle boy having a halfpenny given me, and finding it of no value in its then form, I immediately carried it to a neigh- bouring shop, and holding it up, asked for a halfpenny- worth of anything. I never thought of laying it by but wished at once to convert it into some usable form." Samuel Tuke's health improved whilst he was at Hitchin. When he returned home in 1797, being then only thirteen, it became necessary to decide on his future course. His own preference was, as his father's had been, for medicine, but there was the same impediment, viz., that he was wanted to assist in the business. In his case, as in his father's, filial duty prevailed. If it had been otherwise he would probably, like his son, Daniel Hack Tuke, have taken a high place in the profession, especially in the treat- ment of the insane. He read largely in medical works, and observed the symptoms of the patients at the Retreat with such attention and skill that most readers of the Description of the Institution, which he published in 1813, took him to be a physician. In his father's counting-house he quickly acquired business habits. He occasionally travelled, taking care to carry improving books in his pocket ; 30 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Foster's Essays and Milton were his favourites. The companions he met with in the commercial room were not suited to a mind of so refined and sensitive a nature. " I made a practice when travelling," he wrote, " of reading a portion of the Bible every night when I retired to rest. I remember at Newcastle going into the travellers' room, when there were about twelve or fifteen, or perhaps more, all taking their evening meal, and full of foolish conversation ; and though I did not make myself very conspicuous, I was so far leavened with it, that when I went to my own room, and sat down at the dressing-table to read as usual, I felt that I durst not read. I durst not open my Bible ; and I sat weeping for some time, until some sense of forgiveness was felt, and some desires for more strength, before I began to read." IV. THE WILBERFORCE ELECTION, 1807. MARRIAGE, 1810. IN 1807 William Wilberforce was returned Mem- ber of Parliament for Yorkshire. At that time members of the Society of Friends rarely engaged actively in politics. They entered into them with zeal. over the fireside, and warmly canvassed the merits of the ministers of the day ; but, chiefly in consequence of the abominations attending elections, they generally avoided taking any part whatever on those occasions. The Tukes were Tories ; Henry Tuke, especially, was a warm admirer of Pitt. Not so his wife ; and many an animated discussion took place, in which their chil- dren joined, on the respective policy and characters of rival statesmen. Mary Maria Tuke wrote to her husband (then in London) : " Oh that we may have peace ! Thy mentioning it as probable pleases me much. Modern saints cannot dispense with war — 32 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Pitt's wars ; but I, a publican and sinner, prefer a bad man's peace to angels' wars : Tho' Pitt was perfect in my Henry's eyes, He was but man, and was not always wise." Although Samuel Tuke's mind was less fettered than many, and he acted more on general principles, he would probably not have broken through the practice of the Society for any other man than Wilberforce. The Friends had already given sub- stantial help towards the abolition of the slave trade, and they felt they could not desert their noble and beloved leader when he most needed their assistance. Many Friends in York united with Samuel Tuke in an urgent appeal to their fellow-members to com- bine, appoint agents, and vote only for Wilberforce. Samuel Tuke's father and grandfather were then in London, attending the Yearly Meeting, and Samuel went so far as, on his own responsibility, to subscribe fifty pounds on behalf of the firm towards the ex- penses of Wilberforce's election. On hearing this, Henry Tuke wrote : " Samuel's bold stroke gave his grandfather and me some surprise ; whilst others are not a little entei^tained, and some pleased at it. I had only the day before expressed in the Yearly Meeting the sense [in an opposite direction] of several Friends who had conferred on the subject, so that we feel ourselves in a very awkward situa- tion." Mary Maria Tuke had none of her husband's qualms about a little spirited exertion on Wilber- force's behalf, and when Henry Tuke and his father THE WILBERFORCE ELECTION. 33 returned home, they also caught the enthusiasm, forgot their fears, and entered heartily into the contest. In addition to the instructions to plump for Wilberforce, Friends were advised to uphold the principle of purity of election in every way, " rigidly refusing to voters, food, drink or free conveyance," an admonition which, one may believe, few of them needed.^ Wilberforce's return to Parliament was trium- phant. Some years afterwards he was present at a meeting of the Bible Society held at Chichester. When the meeting was over, one of the speakers introduced James Hack to him, as the father of Samuel Tuke's wife. " Ah ! " Wilberforce replied, " My old friend Mr. Tuke. He is a second William Penn ; indeed, there are three in succession." In the business of the Church, in which he took an active part, Samuel Tuke's superior intelligence sometimes led him to a decision different from that of his nearest friends. On one occasion when his I The candidates were Lord Milton, Lascelles and Wilber- force. The contest was severe and protracted, lasting fifteen days. A Friend, still living, James Henry Barber, relates that his uncle walked from Sheffield to York, and had to wait three days before he could poll, because the castle-yard was packed with electors. " Carriages," said a letter from Hull, " are not to be procured, but boats are proceeding up the river heavily laden with voters ; farmers lend their wagons ; even donkeys have the honour of carrying voters for Wilberforce ; and hundreds are proceeding on foot." Lascelles and Milton lavished their money with the utmost prodigality. Lord Milton's solicitor, long afterwards, told James H. Barber that ;£i2o,ooo passed through his hands for election ex- penses ; and Lascelles was believed to have spent as much. 34 • LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. grandfather, supported, by a large part of the meet- ing, took what Samuel regarded as an incorrect course, he avowed his dissent ; and on another, at one of the annual meetings of the Society, the late John Hodgkin, then a boy, relates how Samuel, occupying, as a young man, a seat on the floor of the house, and his grandfather sitting near the right hand of the Clerk, "he successfully opposed the opinion of that venerable patriarch, and defeated the proposition from his own Quarterly Meeting for the adoption of a national stock for the relief of the poor. In 1808, on the occasion of his twenty-fourth birthday, Samuel Tuke, in a retrospect of his life and under a sense of his need of divine help, made the following resolutions : Resolved — 1. To read some portion of the Old or New Testament daily, and appropriate some portion of the day to internal examination. 2. Frequently to call to mind the true nature of my situation and relation as regards this and the next life, and recollect that though we can do nothing of ourselves alone, yet that we must co-operate with the ■ Divine power. 3. To consider "before engaging in any pursuit ; but when engaged in it, to pursue it with industry, not- withstanding I may have altered my mind with regard to its value. 4. To be never idle. In 1810 Samuel Tuke married Priscilla, daugh- ter of James Hack of Chichester. The attachment COURTSHIP. 35 was formed several years before. In a letter written to his daughter Maria in 1850, he says : I have a lively recollection of meeting my father and mother [James and Priscilla Hack], and the two lovely girls [Hannah^ and Priscilla], fifty years ago at Leeds Quarterly Meeting on their way to the school at York ; and of my undertaking to escort them one morning to breakfast at a friend's house (G. Eddison's) and leading them astray, a great way about, but landing them at length at the old man's table in tolerable time for the meal. It would be a long history to write all that I thought, felt, and did in connection with the family, very much of which is graven on my memory as with a pen of iron. How much of all that has been worth remembering in my pretty long life, seems to me to have been connected with that little intercourse at Leeds ; it was as a nail fastened in a sure place. In 1808 he went tp Chichester to renew his acquaintance with Priscilla Hack. On arriving there he found that she and her sister Elizabeth were on a visit to Salisbury. In a letter written many years afterwards to three of his daughters, he says : Ask my dear brother [then James Hack, junior], if he remembers taking me to Salisbury in the autumn of 1808, in our good father's one-horse chaise, and what a pleasant journey we had. He will not have the same kind of remembrance that I have of the old Dutch-like printer and the venerable aunt, nor of the sweet con- trast of his sisters in the group, young, lovely and intelligent as they, were, their eyes lighted up with the sight of their brother and of a stranger unexpected — not quite a stranger either, nor one without interests in 1 Hannah died soon after leaving school. 36 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. common with them. They welcomed me as a brother, with beautiful simplicity. Then there was the ramble to the fine grounds and the fine house of the Earl of Pembroke, and then there was the parting, and the thoughts which, during a night's travel to London, tossed my mind. This visit to Salisbury ; how many things in my life may be said to have hung upon it ! The sweetest and the bitterest cups of my sojourn from that time to this ; and I must indeed acknowledge that the mercies and the blessings from that period have been manifold indeed, truly in the inverse proportion to my deserts. Though the blessing of that sweet companion has been taken away, there is still sweetness unspeakable in the thought of her, only interrupted by self-reproach for not having loved and valued her sufficiently. From the Yearly Meeting of 1809, Samuel Tuke went again to Chichester, where every opportunity was given to him of further acquaintance with his Priscilla. Their aims, pursuits, and tastes were con- genial, and it was not long before they found them- selves in one another's confidence. His mother entered with all the force of her maternal love into her son's courtship. Under date Sixth Month 12th, she writes : My dearest Boy. Thy sweet and affectionate letter brought thee so entirely to my fond bosom, that I felt thee in every point of view the same, exactly the same dear creature that thou wert in infancy ; so much so that surely I must fully have relinquished the selfish sorrow that for long possessed me, in the prospect of thy ever passing from that state to manhood ; but let me confess that the MARRIAGE. 37 subject of thy endearing letter brought all my former heartfelt regrets into remembfance. I can truly say thou wert a child of promise, all that the fondest mother could have wished ; and mayest thou answer every view and strengthen every virtue in the sweet, the lovely object of thy wise choice. The marriage was accomplished at Arundel on the 14th of the Sixth Month, 1810. The occasion was described by Henry Tuke in a letter to his wife, to which Samuel Tuke made this addition : " I can- not tell thee how I wish thou couldst have been with us to-day ; it was the only want I felt, but it was indeed a great one ; for, I find, as I always did, that there is something in a mother, or at least in my mother, which nothing can supply the place of." V. DIARY. 1810— 1812. SOON after his marriage, Samuel Tuke com- menced a diary in which is shown his domestic Jiappiness, the manner in which he employed his time, the books he read, and the rules he laid down for his guidance. We must content ourselves with a selection. 1810. Tenth Month 21st. — I propose to give one hour every day to the study of Hebrew. 25th. — Intend to collect all the knowledge I can on the theory of insanity, the treatment of the insane, and the construction of lunatic asylums. For this purpose to collect and compare facts rather than books. Also to avail myself of any opportunities of ascertaining the state of lunatic paupers in places where I may happen to travel, and report the accounts to the Editor of the Philanthropist} Twelfth Month 22nd. — Reached home [from Chi- chester] between ten and eleven o'clock this evening after a most fatiguing journey of forty hours from I A journal published by William Allen dm-ing the yeara 1810-1819. 38 WILLIAM FORSTER. 39 London, in a miserable jolting vehicle, certainly by a misnomer called the Highflyer. WilHam Forster, jun., of Tottenham, attended the Quarterly Meeting, and spoke in the commencing and concluding meetings for about an hour in each. On Fifth-day evening he had a meeting with the inhabitants, which was numerously attended. He asserted the . insufficiency of human power to attain perfection, but the possibility of it through the divine grace ; the certainty of all obtaining it who seek with earnest simplicity : and concluded with that sublime invitation, " Ho every one that thirsteth," briefly but beautifully illustrating and applying it. W. F. is about twenty-six years of age, his person tall and slender, and his countenance combining the innocent sweetness and simplicity of a child with the gravity and wisdom of a veteran Christian. His manner of speaking is simple but forcible ; his language partakes of the same character ; he is frequently animated, but seldom flowery ; his words are well chosen, and he seldom uses any technical or peculiar phraseology without clearly explaining it. 181 1. First Month ist. — Though every day is the commencement of a new year and ought to excite our diligent inquiry into the past, there is something in this anniversary which particularly leads to inquiry. I fear I have made very little if any progress in mental improvement within the last twelve I'nonths, but I have abundant occasion to commemorate an accession of unmerited blessings. Whilst many more deserving than myself are sinking under the pressure of the times, I am amply provided with more than I want, and blest with the highest domestic enjoyment in the society and entire affection of the most amiable of women. Oh that I may not be drinking of the cup of blessings, forgetful of the hand that administers them. 40 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. 3rd. — Began, at my father's request, an attempt towards a history and general account of the Retreat. Such an account is much wanted. I shall not be able to do justice to it without giving most of my leisure time, and therefore intend to drop attention to Hebrew at present, and read authors on the subject of insanity. 6th. — Humility is the characteristic virtue of a- Christian. If we had been commanded to run into temptation with a view of overcoming it and approving our strength, pride might have been almost inseparable from the Christian ; but it is not so. Our Saviour taught us to pray to be preserved from temptation ; and the Apostles continually recommend the fleeing, not the encountering, temptation. Fleeing is not only the path of humility, but of safety. He that would avoid evil must indeed turn from it and pass away. If we begin to examine it, its enormity will lessen in our view, or its enchantment will more powerfully affect us. We pro- ceed perhaps with caution ; we think we shall only see more clearly its deformity, and that it is cowardly to shun the examination. But here is the net — this is the device which takes so many who have formed noble resolutions of resistance. Yet alas ! though we find in one instance that our strength has failed, though we perceive our own entire weakness, yet again and again the same net catches us, but perhaps with some additional bait. We now fancy we are better prepared than before, and can certainly resist ; we venture to approach it ; we come within its lines ; and we are taken. Weakened by disobedience we become a more and more easy prey ; before we have fully learnt the danger of parleying with evil, the enemy has got us within his gates, and that temptation no longer assails us. O Lord, lead us not into temptation, but dehver us from evil. CONDITION OF PAUPER LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 41 8th. — Had George Jepson to dinner, and had much conversation on the subject of insanity. ^ It was at this time that Samuel Tuke became acquainted, by personal experience, with the infamous abuses in the treatment of pauper lunatics which prevailed in so many parts of the country. A con- versation in a stage-coach led him to visit the work- house of a city in the South of England. I was introduced, he writes, by a humane and respectable friend to one of the guardians of the workhouse, who with great civility accompanied us to the house. On inquiry for the nurse of the insane paupers, and stating the object of our visit, we were led into a small yard, at a short distance from the principal building, in which were four cells arranged on one side, and adjoining to each other. We descended into them by one step. At the further end of the cell was a plat- form of wood attached to the wall, intended for the patient's bed. In two of the cells, all the light and air passed through an iron grating in the door, so that the air could not be excluded without entirely darkening the apartment. In each of these cells a female was con- fined ; but I cannot describe my feelings and astonish- ment, when I perceived that the poor woman was absolutely without clothes. The weather was intensely • George Jepson had at this time been fourteen years the superintendent of the Retreat. He liad been brought up as a weaver in the West Riding of Yorkshire, but had indulged a natural inclination, favoured by circumstances, for the gathering of medical knowledge. He was almost entirely a self-taught man ; yet so highly esteemed in his neighbourhood, that he was the counsellor of the country people for miles around his residence in some of their most important and private concerns, and he may be said to have been a medical practitioner. He died in 1836, at the age of ninety-three. 42 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. cold ; the evening previous to our visit the thermometer had, I believe, been sixteen degrees below freezing point. One of these foi'lorn objects lay buried under a miserable covering of straw, without a blanket or even a horse-cloth to defend her from the cold. The situation of the other was no less deplorable ; she was buried in straw in the corner of the cell, on the left hand of the door, probably to be less exposed to intrusive observation. Her aspect bespoke much more bodily than mental disease, and she complained very much of the exti'eme cold. The grating had been open, by her own desire, the whole of the preceding night, for she said she could not breathe comfortably without the admission of fresh air. She complained bitterly of not being allowed clothes, and appealed to the nurse to say whether she had shown any disposition to tear her clothes since she had attended upon her, which was a period of about twelve months. The nurse confessed that she had not shown any violent propensities since she had known her, but stated that she understood the poor woman had had a violent paroxysm a short time previous. She further asserted that during the whole time, the master or mistress of the house had never visited the cells of these unhappy beings. In another cell, which only differed from those I have described by having a small casement which admitted light, a man was confined. He had some clothes on ; but his bed, like the others, was only straw, and his leg was chained to the wooden erection at the end of the cell. The master always objected to any alteration, on the ground that they would not wear clothes, and that it would be dangerous to admit them to any greater amount of liberty. Flannel dresses were, however, sent to the work- house after the visit, which they wore with great thankfulness, and invoked many blessings on the givers. "THE MYSTERIES OF UDOLPHO." 45 Seventh Month 14th. — Spent the day at Yanwath, near Penrith, with Thomas Wilkinson. Read on the journey the interesting and truly Christian Researches of Dr. Buchanan in India.' What a field do they unfold for Christian labourers ! A new world seems opened upon us. The star of a Saviour does indeed seem to have arisen in the East, and there can hardly be a doubt that its light will ere long dispel the thick darkness of heathen superstition. 31st. — Left home to attend the Ackworth General Meeting. The institution is in a highly flourishing state ; and the anxiety for improvement which pervades every department holds out an encouraging prospect of future progress. Eighth Month 26th. — Finished The Mysteries of Udolpho, by Mrs. Radcliffe. The intention of this romance appears to be good, ist : — Its object appears to be to show the advantages of a careful education, and the necessity of discouraging that sickly sensibility too common in females in high life, and which so much undermines their powers of usefulness and happiness. 2nd : — To discourage that love and ready belief of the marvellous, so common to the human mind, by relating a number of incidents which have had every appearance of supernatural, but which were found to proceed from natural causes. These illustra,tions are excellent ; but I am nevertheless of opinion that the work is, on the whole, likely to do more harm than good. It represents man in a state which he is not in ; viz., a state in which he requires no superior aid to be innocent and happy. The incidents are so extraordinary that it makes common life appear insipid, and lessens the relish for the works in which imagination is less conspicuous than under- standing and truth. Eleventh Month 2Sth.— (Birth of first child). ' What is man, O Lord, that thou art mindful of him ? ' But 44 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. what am I, the most unworthy of thy creatures, to be thus covered with thy blessings ? 26th. — My dear wife and sweet little babe go on finely. Twelth Month 8th. — Went to Knaresborough to meet William Forster. Full house. W. F. opened, from John i.,the nature of the Christian dispensation, in a very beautiful manner, asserting that all our spiritual blessings are derived through a Saviour, and showing from scripture the truth of our belief in the inward inter- course of the soul of man with Christ, and also declaring the benefit derived to mankind from his death and sufferings. 25th. — Read the account of the birth of our Saviour and early part of his life. The usual mode of com- memorating this day is objectionable, but any one who duly estimates the blessings of life and immortality which came to light through Jesus Christ, can hardly fail to meet the day with pious and grateful recollec- tions. 29th. — Grandfather, father, sister, Joseph Taylor and Martha Fletcher paid a parting visit to Father and Mother Hack, who purpose leaving us to-morrow morning. The forepart of the evening was spent in usual conversa- tion. Towards the close we fell insensibly into silence, under, I believe, a sense of the goodness of the Almighty in showering down so many blessings upon us, of which not the least v/as the possession of friends with whom we could take sweet counsel and from whom we could many of us derive eminent instruction. Father ex- pressed his feelings beautifully, and gave us some good advice. Mother supplicated in a most interesting manner. We were all affected, and though a gloom hung over our spirits in the prospects of parting with such near friends, we felt sensations superior to all that were ever known in the indulgence of i"iotous joy. STEPHEN GRELLET. 45 First Month 13th— i8th. — Generally read Old and New Testament or both, but sadly irregular in all pur- suits. I see more and more clearly that Order is the greatest handmaid of Virtue. 29th. — A meeting for the estabhshment of an Auxihary Bible Society at the Assembly Rooms^ numerously attended. The effects of the Bible Society will, I think, in future times form an im- portant era in the history of mankind. Let us who are promoting the diffusion of the Gospel, study to adorn it in our lives and conversation, and evince that our anxiety to spread it arises from having indeed found it to be to ourselves glad tidings of great joy. Ninth Month 30th. — Quarterly Meeting. Stephen Grellet, from America (a native of France), attended the meetings. He is said to have received a liberal educa- tion, and to have been some time in the army. His manners are particularly soft and pleasing ; he has the politeness of his nation without its levity. He is short and slender, of a swarthy complexion, with sharp and rather interesting features. He spoke of the necessity there was for a greater degree of earnestness and devotion amongst us to the Christian cause. He said it was a day in which many were called upon to beat their ploughshares into swords and their pi-uning-hooks into spears ; a day in which he that hath no sword should sell his coat and buy one ; in which we should even part with our very covering to obtain this sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. He addressed hiftiself very particularly and pathetically to a desponding mind, in which he imagined some present might be ; reminding such of the suffer- ings of our Holy Pattern, who cried out upon the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? " Was He then forsaken, when He was performing his Father's will and enduring those stripes by which we are 46 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. healed ? No, surely. Neither is the poor disconsolate soul forsaken, though for a time it may feel so. But if it were really forsaken, where should it go, whither should it flee for help ? It would be constrained to say with the Apostles, "Lord, to whom shall we go, thou hast the words of eternal life." There is no other hope, no other support ; and the poor distressed mind could only embrace the horns of the altar, and bow with deep humility and patience to the divine dispensation. Tenth Month 21st. — Meeting to consider of the propriety of forming a school for poor girls upon the improved plan suggested by my dear Priscilla. Eleventh Month 8th. — Second meeting respecting the Girls' School. Subscriptions entered into, and a committee appointed. Samuel Tuke to his Wife. Richmond, Eleventh Month loth, 1812. Having finished my day's work, and got myself seated alone by a good iire and couple of mould ■candles, I find myself disposed to employ the interval before supper in conversing with thee. Do not imagine that I am enjoying myself, for I assure thee I never before felt so incapable of single happiness. I remem- ber well the time when, seated as I am at present, after the fatigues of the day were over, I could spend my evening alone iii real, and, I believe, rational employ- ment ; but now a strange alteration has taken place, and I find myself incapable of pleasure in any place where thou, my dearest friend, art not. Our dear little baby, too (the boon which Heaven has lent us), strengthens all the domestic ties, and cements our hearts, if possible, in closer union. Diary. Twelfth Month 31st. — Early in the month I accompanied G. Brown to most of the dwellings in THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 47 the Water Lanes, Staith, Castle, etc., on an inquiry into the want of Bibles. I had not before visited so many of the abodes of poverty, and truly it raised in my mind no small degree of pity and of gratitude. Yet, perhaps, these feelings arise partly from an over-estimation of present comforts, and if we took a correct view of our relation to the future, we should probably think it made little difference how we were accommodated during the race we are all appointed to run, if we did but reach the desired goal. Whatever promoted that end, whether it were abstinence, or severity of exercise, or any other privation, we should voluntarily and cheerfully endure. How strange that those men who pride themselves upon their swiftness, and who are seeking the paltry honour of this world, should endure the hard training to enable them more surely to gain their object, while those who profess to be seeking the most glorious and eternal crown, are so zealous of ease, so reluctant of hardship, that they are often more disposed to give thanks to God for those dispensations of his providence which obstruct, than for those which promote the great object we ought to seek. VI. DESCRIPTION OF THE RETREAT — DEATH OF HENRY AND MARY MARIA TUKE— DIARY. 1813—1815. IN 1813 Samuel Tuke published his Description of the Retreat. Diary. Fifth Month 8th. — Received from the printer a copy of my Description of the Retreat. This work was commenced under a deep sense of the sufferings of the insane. Their afflictions have often been present with me in my retirement before God, and my prayer has been that for the poor and needy who have no helper, He would arise. May He prosper this imperfect effort to awaken the public sympathy towards them ! His prayer was answered. The publication of this book marked an era in the treatment of insanity. Sydney Smith, then residing near York, paid a visit to the Retreat, and wrote an article on the Descrip- tion, in the Edinburgh Review. " The Quakers," he said, " always seem to succeed in any institution which they undertake. The gaol at Philadelphia will remain a lasting monument of their 48 SYDNEY SMITH ON THE RETREAT. 49 skill and patience ; and in the plan and conduct of this Retreat for the Insane, they have evinced the same wisdom and perseverance." The reviewer speaks in the highest terms of the superintendents, George and Katharine Jepson, and cites from the Description some instances of their successful treatment. " The superintendent was one day walking in a field adjacent to the house, in company with a patient who was apt to be vindictive on very slight occasions. An exciting circumstance occurred. The maniac retired a few paces and seized a large stone, which he imme- diately held up, as in the act of throwing it at his companion. The superintendent, in no degree ruffled, fixed his eye upon the patient, and in a resolute tone of voice, at the same time advancing, commanded him to lay down the stone. As he approached, the hand of the lunatic gradually sank from its threatening position, and permitted the stone to drop to the ground. He then submitted to be quietly led to his apartment. " We are particularly pleased," continues the Reviewer, " with the following specimen of Quaker sense and humanity. The female superintendent, who possesses an uncommon share of benevolent activity, and who has the chief management of the female patients as well as of the domestic department, occa- sionally gives a general invitation to the patients to a tea-party. All who attend dress in their best clothes, and vie with each other in politeness and propriety. The best fare is provided, and the visitors are treated with all the attention of strangers. The evening gener- ally passes in the greatest harmony and enjoyment It rarely happens that any unpleasant circumstance occurs ; the patients control, in a wonderful degree. 50 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. their different propensities ; and the scene is at once curious and aifectingly gratifying." Sydney Smith concludes : " The Quakers are always ready with their money, and what is of far more importance, with their time and attention, for every variety of human misfortune. They seem to set themselves down systematically before the difficulty, with the wise conviction, that it is to be lessened or subdued only by great labour and thought ; and that it is always increased by indolence and neglect. In this instance they have set an example of courage, patience and kindness, which cannot be too highly commended, or too widely diffused, and which we are convinced will gradually bring into repute a milder and better method of treating the insane." Writing the next year (1815) a well-known London physician observed : "Already the original stimulus of the Retreat, and the report of a new institution for the cure of the insane, have had a most beneficial effect upon the private establish- ments near London. They now endeavour to make a boast of their care and attention to the poor lunatics." From Russia, Germany, Switzerland, and the United States, Samuel Tuke received numerous letters, asking for information and assistance in the endeavour to improve existing asylums or erect new ones. In England, from this period, he maintained a large correspondence with those interested in the improvement of the condition of the insane, and in the construction of asylums. THE RESULTS OF THE "DESCRIPTION." 51 One of the fii'st fruits produced by the Description was the reform of the York Asylum for the insane poor. Like many kindred institutions, this estabHsh- ment had entirely failed of its original purpose. It had become a hopeless, cruel prison for the miserable patients, and a source of illicit revenue to the physician who, through the inertness or favour of the governors, was its absolute ruler. "Scarcely any kind of abuse or indecency," said a writer in the Quarterly Review, " can be imagined that was not shown to have been perpetrated in the York asylum." Four years before, William Tuke'had addressed a' letter of remonstrance to the governors on the treatment of the patients, but without effect. But as soon as his grandson's Description appeared, the strong contrast between the management of the Retreat and that of the Asylum made a deep impres- sion on the minds of thinking men. The physician took up the pen in defence of his institution and of his conduct, making up by unfounded imputations and scurrilous language what was wanting in reason and fact. A warm controversy followed. The Tukes and their friends used all their influence to bring about a better state of things ; and the physician and the governors, though they fought hard for their ill-gotten pelf and power, were' finally compelled to give up the contest. The old officers were removed and the asylum was remodelled on wise and humane principles. "That," said a writer, 52 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. "thatwhich strenuous efforts had failed to accomplish, a little volume in which the Asylum was scarcely mentioned, has achieved." ^ To these testimonies may be added that of Dr. Conolly. On his retirement from the Hanwell Lunatic Asylum, in 1852, when a testimonial was presented to him. Dr. C. said : " My attention was first called to the subject of Insane Asylums by an inspection, when a youth, of the Asylum at Glasgow. About the same time I read the works of Pinal and of Samuel Tuke of York. To these two great and good men society is indebted for nearly all the improvements which followed their essays. At the time of which I speak the Asylums in Great Britain appeared to be competing for a bad eminence. York was the worst. In 1791 some members of the Society of Friends sent one of their family, a lady, for care to that Asylum. The rules forbade her relatives to see her. Something wrong was suspected ; and from I In 1815 a committee of the House of Commons sat for two months to take evidence on the condition of tlie madhouses in England and on measures for their improvement. William Tuke, then 82 years old, gave evidence regarding the Retreat. Question. " You were the principal promoter of the Retreat at York ? " Answer. " I was, and have always taken an active part in the attend- ance on committee meetings, and everything that has been done respecting it, from the beginning." Question. " Is the statement published by Mr. Samuel Tuke, and which statement is reviewed in the Edinburgh Review, a correct statement of the mode of treat- ing the patients at the York Retreat?" Answer. "I had the revision of it before it went to the press, and I know it to be perfectly correct." W. T.'s examination was very short : the remainder of the questions related to the government of the Reh-eat and the management of the patients. An eye-witness speaks of the interest excited in the Committee by the evidence of the venerable philanthropist. — Report from the Committee. Edited by J. B. Sharpe. London, 1815. Dr. D. H. Tuke's History of the Insane, p. 130. HENRY TUKE, DEATH OF HENRY TUKE. 53 that day the Friends determined to establish an institu- tion in which there should be no secrecy. William Tuke was the great founder of the new Asylum. About the same time a change was commencing in Paris. While the tree of liberty was shedding fast its blood-red fruit in one corner of the city, a good and courageous man, Pinel, [in another corner] was acting upon a •determination to liberate some lunatics from the wretched prisons in which they had been for years in confinement." ^ In 1814 Henry Tuke died, Eighth Month nth, at the age of fifty-nine. His illness had been pain- ful, but he was surrounded by a group of relations devoted to his comfort, and was supported by an humble, child-like trust in the unmerited mercy of God. " If I die," he said the evening before his decease, " I die as I have lived, in the faith and hope of a Chi'istian ; I am perfectly resigned to the will of my Heavenly Father." Watching beside his father's dying bed, Samuel Tuke writes : " The clock struck three, — I had still a father. The light arose and seemed to show me still more strongly the calamity which awaited me. All the circumstances of that loss rushed upon my mind. Such a father — such a friend — and such a partner, few persons had to lose. The world looked to me as a frightful wilderness, in which 1 could not walk without his assistance and counsel." In the entry in his diary recording the funeral, S. T. says : "The day was altogether most memorable ; may its impressions ever be present with us !" I Memoir of Dr. ConoUy, by Sir James Clark, 1869, p. 48. 54 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. In 1815 Mary Maria Tuke became ill with symptoms of dropsy. Her daughters were her nurses, one or both of them always sitting up at night, and taking their slight repasts in the sick room. Her own maid was from some cause absent and they would not introduce a stranger. " Whatever," says Samuel Tuke, "the highest sense of filial duty, affection the most tender, and skill to soothe the most consummate, could supply, was eminently ex- hibited by these admirable daughters. Their efforts seemed to their friends more than , human nature could sustain." He thus records the bedside inci- dents of the last two days : Ninth Month 19th. — I had not been able before to take any part in these unwearied attentions. In the evening our mother wished to have something read to her ; and I read several Psalms and a chapter of Isaiah. A little after twelve o'clock the news was brought me of the birth of a daughter, and that all appeared doing well. I was sitting by the bedside, and I immediately communicated it to my dear mother, who had only a few hours before inquired with affectionate interest respecting my Priscilla. She was evidently pleased with the information and asked what the baby's name was lilcely to be. 20th. — Dming the day my dear mother frequently said, " Pray for me." Kneeling by her bedside, I poured out my hopes and desires, and ventured to express an assurance that her spirit would be permitted through adorable mercy to join the spirit of our departed father, and be forever employed in the praises of redeeming love. About one o'clock in the morning she extended her arms to embrace me, and in a clear voice said, DEATH OF MARY MARIA TUKE. 55 Farewell. She then beckoned to my sisters, of whom she took leave in the same manner. There was dis- tressing restlessness at intervals till nearly three o'clock, after which she lay quiet for about half-an-hour, when the spirit took its flight without an apparent struggle, the 2ist of Ninth Month, 1815. (Her age was 66.) VII. DIARY, 1814—1816.— LETTERS. 1814, Tenth Month i6th. — Drank tea at Lindley Murray's, and had much interesting conversation on the rehgious instruction of youth. Speaking of the objec- tion of some persons to the use of external means, he said the objection was unfounded ; that it was our duty to use all reasonable means to obtain the end proposed, and then to pray and hope for a blessing on those means. He observed we were warranted in the active use of means, by the command of Paul to Timothy to stir up the gift in him. We are not therefore to be inactive beings, but to stir up ourselves to do good, and not to wait for impressions when plain duties are before us. He thought in all systems of Christian instruction, that the effects of the fall and the means of redemption through Christ should be clearly and fully stated. He thought it right to prejudice or bias children's minds on these subjects, not to leave their future adoption, or rejection, to chance ; nor did he think it any reason against their inculcation, that children would not fully comprehend them. In 1816 Samuel Tuke's mind was turned to providing the poorer classes in York with wholesome 56 GOOD READING FOR THE PEOPLE. 57 reading. Under date Second Month 8th, he writes to a fellow-citizen : In one of our many wallcs together from the Asylum I think we conversed on the mischievous tendency of those little libraries which have of late risen up among us with a mushroom rapidity, to satisfy the increased and increasing literary wants of the lower class of our fellow- citizens. I rarely pass one of these shops without thinking that an imperious duty falls upon those who are accessory to the creation of this literary appetite, to endeavour to supply it with wholesome food. To open to the poor the gates of knowledge, which lead equally to the tree of evil and of good, without one effort to lead them aright, when so many are being made to lead them astray, is, to say the least of it, a very imperfect kind of charity. I have procured copies of all the printed catalogues ■of these collections (several of the most despicable have no catalogue), and I think every rational, not to say serious, person would consider them as calculated to produce the most mischievous effects. I think a large number of persons would be desirous of promoting the establishment of a useful library for the lower classes, in which works of innocent amusement should be freely admitted, but everything absolutely injurious rigorously excluded. Such a society would, I think, meet the wants of a pretty numerous class who do not find it ■convenient to become members of the present Subsciip- tion Library. ^ Diary. Twelfth Month ist. — I recommence my Diary this day, and resolve to continue it regularly, under a firm conviction of the advantages to be derived from the daily exercise of self-examination, and a I The result of this was the formation of such a library not long afterwards. 58 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. frequent comparison of the /iresCTj/ with the^fls/. Whence do I come ? Where am I, and whither am I going ? Let these be the constant topics of my inquiry, the themes of my continual meditation, until the experience of the past, and the prospect of the future, govern every present desire. I am aware that unassisted reason cannot bring men to this state, and that it is only to be obtained by a sedulous use of the means which Revelation has made known to us as best adapted to direct and strengthen our infirm and erring faculties. The means which our Saviour especially insisted on, in which we are to be active, were watchfulness and prayer. The means by which He graciously offers to assist us is his Holy Spirit, to enlighten, giiide, and strengthen us. In this tabernacle the soul is burdened and pressed down, and it requires a continual effort to prevent the flesh from becoming the grave of the spirit. We must watch continually ; or as the Apostle describes the state of the true believer, " We who are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened, not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up in Life. Prayer is, if possible, moi-e the privilege than the duty of a Christian. To believe that our great Head, after having personally conquered sin and death, and sat down on his seat at the right hand of his Father, still condescends to be our intercessor and mediator, and allows us to hold communion with Him, and hears us when we cry for mercy or help, are benefits which surely call for our liveliest gratitude. What a means of elevation and refinement, to be allowed thus, from our grovelling abodes, to hold intercourse with heaven ! Oh, my soul, moi-e and more avail thyself of this inestimable privilege to enlarge and refine all thy faculties, and finally to prepare thee for a residence where nothing that is impure will be permitted to enter. THE GRAND DUKE AT THE RETREAT. 59 3rd. — How amazingly does obedience enlarge our knowledge of the true motives and tendencies of our actions, and enable us to know, as by a single percep- tion, rather than a train of reasoning, what that good is which we ought to pursue. The process may be com- pound, but it has, like the perception of the visual organs, all the character of intuition. They that do My will, says the highest authority, shall know of My doctrine. Purity of heart is essential to perfection of understanding. This year, 1816, York Friends commenced an adult school, Samuel Tuke being one of the teachers. In this step we see the anticipation of a movement which, in our day, has done so much to rejuvenate the Society. Under date Twelfth Month 8th, he writes : "Sixteen scholars attended, who appeared anxious to learn and grateful for the opportunity." 12th. — The Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia, brother to the Emperor, with a considerable suite, came to the George Inn last night. On going to the counting-house this morning, I found a summons to call on him at ten o'clock. My grandfather and I went accordingly, and were introduced to Dr. Crichton, who informed us that the Duke was not come down, but that the object of his message was to request to see the Retreat at twelve o'clock, and wished one of us to meet him there. I went to the Retreat, where the party arrived about half past twelve. It consisted of the Grand Duke, Baron Nicolay, W. C, and Dr. Crichton. Dr. Belcombe, hearing of the intended visit, was present. On the Duke's entrance, I introduced him to Dr. B. and George Jepson, and we immediately proceeded through the men's wards. The Duke observed everything very attentively, and expressed himself much gratified by ^0 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the appearance of comfort which prevailed and the cleanness of the apartments. On coming out of the men's wards, I introduced the Duke to Katharine Jepson, and we then followed her upstairs, where the Duke appeared still more gratified by the lively and strikingly clean appearance of the women's apartments. He made many inquiries respecting particular persons,^ noticed the windows with evident pleasure, and frequently exclaimed, " C'est parfait ! c'est admirable !" The number of patients who were employed struck him especially. He examined the knives and forks, etc., and seemed highly gratified by the attention paid to the lesser comforts of the patients. During the interview, the Baron Nicolay mentioned the Duke's wish to make a present to the institution, and inquired whether it would be accepted. I assured him that nothing of the kind was expected, and the servants were not allowed to receive anything ; but that if the Duke wished to leave anything for the institution, it would of course be gratefully accepted. He then put a ;^20 note into my hand.^ On coming downstairs the party partook slightly of some refreshment in the parlour. The Duke behaved with the utmost affability. He appears about twenty- five, is tall, extremely well made, has a fair complexion, and a very mild but manly expression of countenance. On going away, he shook hands with me very cordially, and expressed his gratification in strong terms, and his thanks for the attention paid him. I sent the Duke a copy of the Description of the Retreat, and the Practical Hints ■ and a copy of the 1 One of the women slapped the Grand Duke familiarly on the shoulder, saying, "Thee great Muscovite !" 2 The Retreat, at that time, depended largely on donations and annual subscriptions. It is now self-supporting. THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESHIP. 6r Principles of Friends ^ to the Baron Nicolay. Thus this- visit may be useful to the unhappy maniacs of the great empire of Russia. Humility and simplicity have need to be my watchwords. 19th. — A day of headache till the evening, but attended to business as usual. Adult School, twenty- four learners. 24th. — Went with grandfather and sister Esther to the Quarterly Meeting, which was held at Leeds in consequence of the re-building of the large Meeting- house at York. There is an evident want of able and willing labourers to dig and prune in the garden of our Society. Our remarkable grandfather seems to stand as almost the last relic of a race of worthies, whose like, I sometimes fear, we are never to look upon again. Yet the hand that formed thevi is not less able or less willing to form their successors, nor are the materials less capable. Why, then, are we so degenerate ? Are the vessels saying to Him that formeth them, What doest Thou ? There is a great want of simple devotion amongst us. We wish to work in our own way, to eat our own bread and drink our own water, but yet to be called by the name of Christ. We wish to be called disciples, but are not willing to be conformed either to the simplicity of our Master's birth or the sufferings of his death. Yet the terms of discipleship remain unaltered, " If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me." I One of Henry Tuke's works. VIII. DIARY, 1817—1819.— LETTERS. FIRST Month ist, 1817. Another year terminates, and another commences. I remember when a boy what a period was a year ! Now it comes, and is hurried away, like a month of former times. At the age •of fourteen I think I could have nearly traced, not my actions only, but most of my thoughts and feelings, for a long-past time, at least a year ; now I often find it difficult to retrace one day even before it has expired. I wish I had continued, uninterruptedly, a practice which I pursued in youth, of making a close evening review of the past day. I think at the age of twelve or thirteen, and for several succeeding years, I rarely omitted to bring before me when I lay down on my pillow, the day just past, and it was then no difficulty -to me to call up and make to pass in orderly review, many thoughts and feelings which had occurred from rising to going to bed. All the secret motives of my heart were laid open before me, and received the approbation or censure of the evening Judge. i6th. — I wish to make it a maxim never to postpone doing what justice or gratitude seems to require of me, when I have a fair opportunity of doing it. He that puts off to to-morrow what he has the opportunity of doing to-day, and what he sees clearly to be his duty. VISIT OF DR. SPURZHEIM TO YORK. 63 will often, when to-morrow comes, refer to a future day the reconsideration of the necessity of doing it at all. 28th. — 2 Cor. iv. 6 : I was struck this evening, in reading the above text, with the following beautiful allusion to it, which I read last night in Cudworth's admirable sermon on John v. 3, 4. After comparing the Gospel to the pool of Bethesda, he says : " And, what- ever the world thinks, there is a powerful Spirit that moves upon these waters, the waters of the Gospel, for this new creation, the regeneration of souls ; the very same Spirit that once moved upon the waters of the universe at the first creation, and, spreading its mighty wings over them, did hatch the newborn world into this perfection ; I say the same Almighty Spirit of Christ still worketh in the Gospel, spreading its gentle, healing, quickening wings over our souls." 30th. — Accompanied Dr. Spurzheim, the German craniologist, to the Retreat. His observations there af- forded me no proof of the truth of his system. He was, indeed, very cautious in his remarks. On returning, he came into our house, and I was desirous to hear his re- marks on our children, and particularly on , in whom the desire of approbation and admiration has always been observed as a very strong principle of character. Maria first claimed his attention, and he ob- served- the organs of caution were prominent. came into the room, and immediately fell under his observation. He had hardly placed his hand upon her head when he exclaimed, " Desire of approbation — of esteem — very prominent." Had Dr. S. seen -walk across the room, or observed her conduct for a minute, in the presence of a stranger, I should not have thought the observation striking, because the tendency is easily seen ; but I think in this case he had no opportunity of judging of her character by her conduct. We were sit- ting almost close to the door, and she came running into 64 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the room, quite unconscious of any stranger being there, and she had scarcely seen Dr. S. when he made his delineation. If it was influenced by his observation of her conduct, he had a more acute discernment of char- acter than I gave him credit for. That there is some foundation for the science in nature, or that some forms of the head are more or less favourable than others to the exhibition of mental powers, can hardly be denied ; but how far these external indications extend, and whether we are to expect to learn from them the mi- nute shades of character and talent, is what I confess myself much inclined to doubt, but incompetent to decide. In connection with the above, a passage from a letter from Samuel Tuke to his wife may be here inserted. Edinburgh, Fourth Month 29th, 1821. I arrived about eleven o'clock last night, having had pleasant company all the way from Thirsk to Newcastle, no other than James Montgomery. The protuberance of the organ of Ideality, and that of Veneration, led me to suspect the man, and our conver- sation soon convinced me that he would not add to my scepticism on the science of craniology. Samuel Tuke to his Wife. Chichester, First Month 13th, 1818. I met Elizabeth Fry at Upton, and had some inter- esting conversation with her about Newgate, which I was very desirous to visit. She feared whether her en- gagements would allow her to go during my stay. I called, however, in Mildred's Court, on Seventh-day morning, and soon after, Mary Sanderson came in and very kindly offered to accompany me ; she is one of the most active members of the association. NEWGATE. 65 We entered the prison, and passed through a gloomy lobby filled with porters and turnkeys, and hung round with chains. My guide made several inquiries of the turnkeys, which were answered with marked civility. We proceeded through some dismal passages to the women's division of the prison, and went upstairs to a room where a little school was formed of the child- ren of prisoners. They are taught to sew, read and knit, by a prisoner whose good conduct has recom- niended her to notice. A few young women, who were anxious not to mix in the general room, and whose be- haviour has been exemplary, are allowed to sit in the schoolroom. We next visited one of the rooms for untried prisoners, where nearly the whole of them were collected (between seventy arid eighty) for the purpose of being read to. They stood with great quietude, and evinced much attention and some feeling, whilst Mary Sanderson read a psalm to them in a very audible and impressive manner. As we left the room, many blessings were invoked on their benefactors. I saw much of the work done by them. Several who did not know how to use the needle when they entered Newgate, have learnt to sew and knit, so as to be able to make shirts and stock- ings. A pretty ready sale has been found for the work, and the profits go to the workers. I must not omit to mention, what I shall not soon forget, a visit to the '' condemned room," where three poor women were awaiting the execution of their awful sentence. One of them, convicted of forgery, was about thirty-five years of age, and no hopes were entertained of a pardon for her. She seemed chiefly solicitous about her future state. She was, however, a good deal overpowered in mentioning a farewell visit from her father, a day or two before. She expressed much gratitude to the Friends : and I trust their en- 66 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. deavours have been the means of leading the poor creature to that true repentance, on which alone a well- grounded hope of mercy can rest. It is hoped that the other two prisoners will be reprieved. No woman has been executed from Newgate since the association has been formed, and Lord Sidmouth pays great attention to the representation of the committee in regard to con- duct. I was allowed to see the whole of the men's department, and I can hardly conceive a more painful sight. The first party I saw consisted of twenty-six criminals under sentence of death. No voice of con- trition was heard. Some were quarrelling about a halfpenny as I entered the room ; others were breaking out into boisterous laughter ; and some were sitting or pacing about, in sullen indifference. Amongst them was a fine-looking little boy about nine years old ; but though so young, I fear, hardened in depravity, and initiated into all the mysteries of vice ! In the other parts of the prison, no moral discrimination appeared to obtain, and gaming, and I fear every species of debauchery, prevailed. Diary. 1819, First Month 3rd, York.— Attended, as usual, at the Asylum in the afternoon, to read to the male patients. The attendance has gradually increased to about forty-five, and any exception to propriety of behaviour is extremely rare. Several at first found themselves unable to restrain their diseased inclinations ; over these they have now gained a temporary mastery. Many are very attentive, and are sometimes affected. My plan is to read first a few chapters of the New Testament and to conclude with one or two psalms. I have not unfrequently seen the tear, I believe, of sincere devotion trickle down the cheek of a decided lunatic, whilst I have been reading of the love of God in Christ Jesus, or the delightful effusions of David's piety. I READINGS WITH THE INSANE AND PRISONERS. 67 observe, when the reading is over, some of those who generally speak in a boisterous manner adopt a soft and moderate tone, and are evidently under a degree of comfortable subjection. In the early part of this experiment some of the patients wished to have singing introduced at the close of the reading, to which I readily acceded. One of them brought me the book, and pointed out the hymn they had chosen, which I read and they sang. I was ■doubtful whether the exercise left so good an impression as a psalm of David read impressively. I did not, how- ever, in the least discountenance the practice ; but they have gradually given it up, and as their attention and seeming interest have increased, I hope it has not been dropped from a religious indifference. 4th. 1— At ten o'clock this morning I went with A. Thorpe, the under-sheriff, and W. Flower, jun., the chaplain, to organize a school among the untried prisoners in the " low grates " at the Castle. We had established a school on the 20th of Eleventh Month amongst those who are sentenced to limited periods of confinement, which has succeeded beyond our expec- tation. Third Month 4th. — Visited the Castle from three to four. I read at the request of one of them the seven- teenth chapter of John's Gospel, and afterwards the latter part of the tenth chapter of Matthew, and pointed out a number of the most striking parallel passages, which the prisoners themselves turned to and read. They were extremely quiet and attentive. Now and then the clank of a chain grated on the ear. Close beside me stood a man committed for murder ; several others for the highest offences were in the room, who in case of their conviction, are almost certain to pay the forfeit of their lives. As the assizes commence on Second-day, this was likely to be the last visit I should 68 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. pay them. Their situation made them unusually attentive and impressible. I addressed them, and regretted deeply my inability to do justice to such an occasion. In concluding I bade them all farewell. Many voices were raised in expressions of gratitude for the attention which had been paid to them, and I left them under a feeling of interest and anxiety which I cannot describe. In standing amongst these criminals I felt myself as a brother. Lord, prosper the endeavours of all who are seeking to increase the knowledge of Thee, not for their sakes, but for Thy name's sake ! An American traveller who came to York at this time has left a description of his visit to Samuel Tuke, and to the Retreat and the York Lunatic Asylum. " To my friend Samuel Tuke, whose efforts and writings on behalf of the insane have placed him in a distinguished rank amongst men of talent and benevo- lence, I am indebted for an agreeable home while at York and the most friendly attentions. His venerable grandfather, whom I met in London and who is now in his eighty-fifth year, conducted me to the Minster. Such a guide to such an edifice ! " 1819. Second Month 26th. — Under the guidance of my host went to the Retreat. We first entered the room of the convalescent men. A company of grave- looking Friends, in the costume of the Society and presenting the image of sober and rational reflection, formed so remarkable a contrast with the noise and vehemence of a French Lunatic- Hospital, as to make it difficult to realize the fact of their mental alienation. " 28th. — I accompanied Samuel Tuke to the York Lunatic Asylum, situated about half a mile from the city, and on the side opposite to that of the Retreat. It is a large, handsome building, and at present GRISCOM'S VISIT TO YORK. 69 accommodates about seventy men and forty women. The organization of tlie Institution has undergone a most important change since the pubHcation of Samuel Tuke's Account of the Retreat in 1813. The recom- mendation in that work of a milder system of treatment led to a spirited controversy between S. T. and the physician of the Asylum, and was sustained by the public interest until it produced a complete i-evolution in the establishment. " Samuel Tuke frequently attends at the Asylum on First-day afternoon to collect such of the patients as are tolerably quiet and read to them a portion of the Scriptures. About thirty assembled this afternoon. One of the patients, at S. T.'s suggestion, sang one of Watts's Hymns, with a melody and sweetness of voice not surpassed by anything of the kind I have ever heard." 1 Samuel Tuke attended the Yearly Meeting this year. He makes the following memorandum : Fifth Month 22nd. — The meeting was opened by some beautiful remarks on the subject of Peace, by William Forster. He congratulated us on the present auspicious period, but wished the Society not to forget that its principle was not so much against war, z.s for the meek and unoffending spirit of the Christian dispensation, which was to be evinced by our conduct and conver- sation amongst men, though all nations were at peace. I Griscom's Year in Europe, 1818-1819. New York, 1823. Vol. II., pp. 302-307. IX. HOME LIFE : RECOLLECTIONS BY SAMUEL TUKE'S DAUGHTER MARIA. AN " interior " of the family life during this period is supplied from some letters of Samuel Tuke's daughter Maria (then Maria Tylor), written many years afterwards to her own children when very young. Hannah, the eldest of Samuel Tuke's children, was about ten years of age. Sarah died young, and the prominence given to her in the letters is due to M. T.'s desire that her own children should become acquainted with the character of a beloved sister, who, if she had lived, would have been their aunt. Sarah was only a year younger than I was ; so when we were little we played together, and learnt our lessons together, and slept in the same room, and loved each other very much. The house we lived in was in a street called St. Saviour-gate, in the very old city of York. There was a pleasant nursery, with two windows, from which we could see a good way over the country. In the passage close by the nursery stood our rocking-horse : little Sarah was very fond of riding upon it, for she was an FAMILY LIFE AT THE COUNTRY HOUSE. 71 active child, though often very poorly even then. There was a long garden, with a gate at the far end, which was never opened. At one side of the garden there was a very little hill, which we used to run up and down, and we called it the Red Lane, for it was very narrow and covered with red clay. We had many pleasant plays in that garden ; but our pleasantest plays were always in a beautiful garden at another house, where we lived in the summer time, quite away from the town.^ We had a sort of carriage which had seats at each side like a car. The horse's name was John ; a good horse he was, and we all loved him. How glad we were when the bright summer days came, and we were told that we were going to " the cottage." We all got into the car, and old John trotted off. He knew his way as well as anybody. If a covered cart was on the road, then John shied. He always did that, though he had seen them hundreds of times. It was generally evening when we went to the cottage, so we only had time to run out and look at the flowers, and hear the birds sing their last songs before they, and we, went to bed. We awoke early, and then the nurse came and took us into another room, where there was a cold bath, and she dipped us in and rubbed us quite dry. Then we were dressed and ran out into the garden. There we sometimes found our dear papa. One bright morning when the dew was on the grass, and the gardener Joseph had been mowing with his scythe ever since five o'clock, we ran out as usual before brealdast, and our papa began a game at hide- and-seek amongst the bushes. All at once we saw him coming on to the pathway, walking quite lame. At first we thought he was playing at being a lame man ; but when we ran to him, we found that he had cut his foot with the scythe, which Joseph had left on the ground I Deighton Cottage. 72 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. among the shrubs, instead of hanging it on a tree. We were sadly frightened. Just tlien Joseph came running to us, for he had been to his breakfast. He took dear papa up on his back, and carried him into the house, and then a man went on a horse to York to fetch a doctor. The poor toe was bound up ; but papa was lame for some time. The summer was soon over, and then we went back to the house in the town. We did not go to the house we had lived in before. Our papa had bought another house, a little way out of the town,i just opposite an old church with its pleasant- looking burying-ground and a low stone wall, with curious old stone figures upon it, and a pump close by it, where all the horses and cows in the neighbourhood came to drink. How often we used to watch them from our new school-room window, which looked into the road ! Sometimes an old cow would dance instead of quietly taking her tea. The garden was large ; and a little piece was given to us, and divided into small gardens for each. One was rather larger than the others ; so Sarah and I joined in that, after our brother Henry went to school. Sarah and I made a grotto in ours, and dug a large hole, which we rather hoped might reach to New Zealand ; but finding it did not seem likely to do this, we bought a large bread-pan, and put it in the hole, hoping to have a pond instead ; but this did not answer either. One day we were told that, instead of having any afternoon school, we were to have our things on and go with our governess into Castlegate to see our great- grandfather. He was just about ninety years old and quite blind ; and now he was very ill and our dear papa and mamma wished us to see him once more before he died. It was a bright sunny afternoon, and we walked I In Lawrence Street. c >. THE CHILDREN'S VISIT TO LINDLEY MURRAY, ii along very quietly at first, but just as we came into Tower Street, where we could see the old tower, in which so many poor Jews were burnt hundreds of years ago, and where many other things had happened which we liked to hear about, something made us laugh. Perhaps it might be the funny old man in his red waist- coat, who kept the postern, and came toddling out of his little house whenever a carriage came up to let down the post which stood in the middle of the road. Our governess reminded us that we were going to see our grandfather, perhaps for the last time ; so we tried to be quiet ; and we felt very grave when we came to the house, and were taken up the dark staircase into the room where the good old man lay on his bed. We did not stay long, for his illness was so great that he did not notice us. We had often been to spend the day at his house when he was well, and he used to give us liquorice stick out of a little box he carried in his pocket. I have often told you that the desk which J. writes upon at school once belonged to Lindley Murray. Our dear papa loved L. M. very much and liked to take us to see him. Sometimes when dinner was over he would say, " We are going to take tea at Holgate (the place where Lindley Murray lived) and we can take two or three of you with us." When we got to Holgate we were taken into a small sitting room, and a lady named Hannah Richardson came to us with a pleasant smiling face, and told us how glad she was to see us ; and when we were all ready, she took us into the room where Lindley Murray was. Our mamma went in first, and we followed one by one, and went up to the chair where he was sitting, and shook hands with him. He did not get up for he could not walk. His wife sat by him in a little black bonnet ; a sweet gentle-looking little woman she was. Our papa 74 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. sat on the other side of L. M. ; and then our mamma was placed beside his wife on a hard sofa covered with green stuff ; and we were placed on chairs in a line with it, for it was a very long room. We sat very still, looking first out of the window at one end of the room into the old fashioned garden, and then out of the other window which looked into the pleasant I'oad and over the green fields. Sometimes Hannah Richardson talked to us ; and she went to a little dark mahogany corner cupboard aud brought out a little plate of Savoy biscuits which she handed to us. In a little while the door opened and Mary came in with the tea. The tea-pot was not made of silver, for Lindley Murray would not have anything but spoons of silver ; he thought Christian people ought not to use costly things and spend a great deal of money to make themselves grand or even very comfortable ; he thought they ought to spend it on those who are poor and need help. Well ; the cups and saucers were soon on the table, cups without handles, as they were made in former times ; and then Mary brought in the tray of very nice hot tea-cakes, and set the chairs, and when she saw us all seated, she went and sat down herself with a waiter ill her hand on a chair behind us, to be ready if anything was wanted. After tea, Hannah Richardson said in a cheerful voice, " Now I daresay the children will like to go into the garden." We were very glad when she said this ; so we got up directly and walked out of the room, looking very grave ; but as soon as we were left alone on the broad straight gravel walk which went quite to the other end of the long garden, we began to run 3.nd laugh. We went to the nice summer-house which had a door and many windows in it, and a table and chairs, all painted white, and as clean as could be. When Henry was with us he drew queer things on this clean THE PRISONERS IN CLIFFORD'S TOWER. 75, white table, for he was so fond of drawing that if he had a pencil he could hardly help using it. Sometimes we peeped into the kitchen where Mary was making tea for Robert who drove us here, and who had put up the horse and carriage in the old coach- house and stable. Mary was very kind. She was dressed like a very plain Friend, and when we went into the kitchen she would say, " Well, sure my dears, I am very glad to see you.'' When we had amused ourselves awhile in the garden, Hannah Richardson came to fetch us to read to Lindley Murray. Now we were very much afraid of this, but we could not disobey ; so we walked again into the room, one by one, and our papa took a book from the round bookshelves near the window, and called us in our turns to stand by him and read. Lindley Murray had a grave face but a very kind one ; and he stroked our heads when we had done and thanked us for reading to him. But our papa used to say, " No, they should be obliged to thee for hearing them read." Then we had the Savoy biscuits handed again, and put on our things, and Robert brought the carriage to the gate. We got in as quickly as we could, for poor John was so frightened at the great dark stable where he had been spending the afternoon, that he would hardly stand still a minute. I told you in one letter about the old Tower. It is called Chfford's Tower. Part of it was used as a prison when your grandpapa was a little boy, and some very good people (Friends) were confined there, because they did not think it right to pay tithes. At the same time James Montgomery was in the prison for writing some- thing which was supposed to be against the king or the government. He had not, I believe, really done wrong. He was a good man and a poet, and he wrote many verses while in prison. The governor of the Castle was 76 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. very kind to these good men ; he allowed their friends to visit them, and send them some comforts which they stood in need of. Notwithstanding this, one of them became very ill from the dampness of the prison and the long confinement in one room with a stone floor. On Sunday they held a meeting, and your grand- papa's father and mother and several other Friends would go to the Tower and sit with them ; and often they were comforted together by the presence of Jesus, and refreshed in the love of God, and gave thanks for his mercy towards them in the midst of their sufferings. One day, when they were thus met together, the good man who was ill, and who was in another room with one of the Friends, became worse and died. His spirit was taken to a mansion in Heaven, leaving only the poor lifeless body in the gloomy prison. Your dear grand- papa was then only a little boy, but he went sometimes with his mamma to visit these good prisoners, and after he left home for school he did not forget them, but sent messages to them. The name of the Friend who died was Joseph Brown. James Montgomery wrote some verses about his death which we learnt when we were children. They began : Spirit, leave thine house of clay ; Lingering dust, resign thy breath ; Spirit, cast thy chains away ; Dust, be tliou dissolved in death. Prisoners were brought to York from many other places to be tried, and these times were called the Assizes. We were sometimes allowed to go to the court with our governess, to hear the prisoners tried for lesser offences. Lord Brougham was then a pleader, and a very clever one too, and Sir Frederick Pollock and other learned men whom we very much liked to hear. Of the judges, I best remember Judge Scarlett ; he looked so grave and seemed to wish to judge rightly. WILLIAM TL'KL. X. DEATH OF WILLIAM TUKE — SAMUEL TUKE A MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL- VISIT TO PARIS— DIARY— LETTERS. 1822- 1828. IN a letter to his wife, under date Fifth Month, 1820, Samuel Tuke, who was then attending the Yearly Meeting in London, writes : "The inquiries after our dear grandfather are very numerous ; his seat being vacant was feelingly noticed in the meet- ing. Everybody regrets his absence, and it is observed to be hardly like a Yearly Meeting without him." In his diary, resumed Twelfth Month 6th, 1822, he makes the following entry : This morning my dear grandfather, in the ninetieth year of his age, departed this life in peace, without sigh or struggle,. and almost without the appearance of disease. It has been the lot of very few men to have so long a career of active usefulness as my grandfather enjoyed. It may truly be said of him that he fell asleep in the Lord. 78 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Diary. First Month ist, 1824. — For some months past I have felt a greater desire to devote myself entirely to the divine will, and a greater power over the irregular desires of the natural mind, than for several years past ; but I write this with fear, recollecting the admonition, "Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." At the Monthly Meeting in the Eleventh Month, my aunt Alexander mentioned her wish to pay a religious visit to the Friends who had lately come into the meeting {a very considerable number), and Deborah Backhouse agreed to accompany her. During the silence which followed, I ventured to give utterance to a few thoughts which had strongly impressed me at the previous week- day meeting, and which now revived. I cannot describe the impulse to speak which I felt on the former occasion, or the solemnity which covered my mind ; but the sense of my own un worthiness for the office of a public teacher, or to be employed to speak as in the name of the Lord, overcame the impulse. The impression which attended it accompanied my mind for a considerable time after the close of the meeting. It being thought desirable that some man Friend should accompany A. A. and D.B. in their visits, and my name being proposed, I did not feel satisfied to decline the privilege ; and I ventured in several of the families to say a few words, and to express my feelings in supplication. Two weeks ago in the meeting, after a strong con- flict of feeling, I ventured to repeat, with very brief observations, the last verses of one of the Psalms. At the close of the Quai^terly Meeting for business I was drawn into vocal supplication, and the same in our own meeting on First-day morning. My mind on these occasions has been relieved from the fear of men and anxiety about their opinion, in a degree which I could not have anticipated. It seems to have been FIRST APPEARANCE AS A MINISTER. 79 absorbed in the sense of the awfuhiess of the engage- ment, and I think nothing but a sense of that woe which attends the dereliction of what we feel to be our duty, would have led me to open my mouth in this manner. O Lord, if it be Thy will that I should thus advocate Thy cause on earth, unworthy as I am, be pleased more and more to subject my will to Thy all-holy direction and guidance ! Oh, simplify, purify, and strengthen me ! In allusion to one of the occasions named above an honoured elder in the church wrote : " There is certainly something of zeal spreading amongst the younger part of our large Quarterly Meeting ; and in no instance of dedication have I felt more comforted than in that of Samuel Tuke, who closed the sitting on Fourth-day evening by an offering in thanksgiving and supplication, under a cover of solemnity, equal, I think, to any I have witnessed. The effect was very striking, and to some, I suppose, rather astonishing. I cannot but think how some whose spirits are now at rest would have rejoiced. I say would have ; but we are left in darkness as to the connection between the church militant and the church triumphant. It is said there is joy in heaven over the sinner that repenteth, and how do we know what may be experienced there, when spirits still in conflict catch the mantle of departed worth and cast down their crowns at the feet of the Saviour." Diary. First Month i6th.— Arrived in London last evening, having left home on Third-day, and reached Hitchin on the following morning. I attended the meeting at Hitchin yesterday, where soon after sitting down, the passage, " There is a river the streams whereof make glad," etc., arrested my attention. I hoped I might have continued in silence throughout the meeting, but 8o LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. before the close I felt such an impression of awful necessity to speak, and such an entire abstraction of the fear of the world, that I ventured to rise, under an humbling sense of my own greater need to be minis- tered to than to minister. Suggested the inquiry to each individual as to the acquaintance with these gladdening streams ; whether the time set apart for religious exercises was heavy on our hands ; whether we were glad when it was concluded, and we re- turned to our ordinary avocations, as to our natural element, with avidity and satisfaction. " They that sow to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; but they that sow to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life ever- lasting." Samuel Tuke to his Wife. (Giving an account of his taking his two elder chil- dren, Hannah and Henry, to school, prior to his visit to Paris to see the asylums for the insane.) Rochester, Eighth Month 8th, 1824. When my business [in London] was accomplished we sallied forth for the Bazaar in Soho Square, a place which Hannah was very desirous of visiting. At one of the stands Henry bought a brass anchor, which pleased him much ; and Hannah with her indulgent aunt by her side, and her father in a mood not the most stern, got several little matters which took her fancy ; and both she and Henry saw many things which they thought would please their brothers and sisters at home, who were named as the articles occurred which seemed most likely to please them. From hence we journeyed into Leicester Square. The panorama of Pompeii is a delightful exhibition. We took a coach to our lodgings in Bishopsgate Street, where we arrived about six o'clock, and enjoyed our tea. We were all in tolerable spirits. Henry was THE PARIS INSANE ASYLUMS. 8i quite the life of the company, as gay as a lark. On Seventh-day morning Hannah was rather grave. On some of us rather checking Henry's vivacity at break- fast, he said the evils of the day were sufficient for it. About ten o'clock we set off for Brentford, and poor Hannah's spirits sank many degrees on the way, and her eyes often filled with tears. We were now all rather sad. Everything we saw at Brentford School pleased us. Hannah was very desirous not to be among the last scholars, and was grati^ed to find that only four had arrived. She shed many tears at parting, but behaved very well. On leaving Brentford, we went immediately to the place from which the coach for Rochester sets off, and after a pleasant ride, reached the city about eight o'clock. On getting into the school-house, poor Henry could whistle off his feelings no longer, and the tears started into his eyes. Next morning he felt pensive when he awoke, and was very affectionate. Samuel Tuke went on to Paris. In a letter to Lindley Murray, Eighth Month i8th, 1824, he des- cribes the Hospitals for the Insane : We went first to the Salpetriere. Dr. Esquirol, who is, perhaps, more devoted to the study of insanity than any other physician of Europe, was out of town ; but his assistant, a Dr. Mitivie, showed me their private establishment for thirty patients, who pay from 400 to 500 francs a month ; and accompanied me through every part of the Salpetriere which is devoted to the insane. The Salpetriere is remarkable for its cleanliness, the absence of unnecessary restraint, and the general appearance of comfort, or at least satisfaction, which is indicated by the manner of the patients. They have certainly fewer melancholies than we have in our establishments, and the French character is strongly 82 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. marked under the influence of the disease. On the whole, I am disposed to think that there are very few estabhshments in England for the cure of the insane, which afford so good an asylum, or so great a proba- bility of recovery. The Bicetre, to which I gained a very ready admis- sion, and many kind attentions from the physician, Dr. Pariset, is in a very different state ; and, with the excep- tion of the ward for convalescents, is disgraceful to the French Government. Nor is the Hopital de Charenton at all better. There are in these three places upwards of 2,000 lunatics, of whom, happily, the greater number are in the Salpetriere. At Charenton, the patients pay from 800 to 1,300 francs per annum for their support, whilst at the two other establishments nothing is paid. No iron manacles appear to be in use in the Paris asylums. They might certainly take some useful lessons from MS ; but I think there is also a good deal to be learnt from them. And, if I mistake not, the medical treat- ment of the subject is much more likely to receive illus- tration from them than from iis. It is remarkable, however, that notwithstanding the zeal with which the science of medicine is pursued by the French, and the excellence of their schools, they are said not to rank so high as practical physicians. The mortality in the Paris hospitals is much greater than in the English for the same complaints, and it is also much greater in the city at large than in London. In 1824, Samuel Tuke commenced a series of selections from, or abridgments of, the writings of the Early Friends, beginning with the memoirs of Stephen Crisp. In a letter to Lindley Murray, Ninth Month 24th, he says : THE WRITINGS OF THE EARLY FRIENDS. 83 I conceive that the actual excellence of the works in question makes them deserving of peculiar attention. They uphold in a very striking manner the necessity of an entire devotion to the will of God, as revealed by the Holy Spirit in the heart ; and whilst they press most frequently that part of the divine covenant which is for man to perform, there appears to me to be in them, and in none of them more than in those of George Fox, a constant reference to the depravity and, as it regards spiritual things, the imbecility of the natural man, and to the great doctrine of the sacrifice of Christ for sin as the foundation of their hopes. These doctrines, though not so prominent or conspicuous as that which they built upon them, viz., the necessity of man's attention and obedience to the dictates of the Holy Spirit, are the clear foundation of their whole system. At a time when the Society is coming more into public notice, and when its members are anxious to repel the insinuations of un- soundness in their faith, it appears to me important for ourselves to bear in mind, and, perhaps, to be put in mind of, that high standard of conduct which the writings, no less than the lives, of our early confessors maintained ; and is it not important that inquiring per- sons of other societies should be enabled, without the necessity of reference to the diffuse originals, to ascer- tain that the sentiments and doctrines which we now profess were also those of our earliest predecessors ? In the Tenth Month, 1825, Samuel Tuke's name was placed on the records of York Monthly Meeting as an approved minister of the Gospel. Letter to his Wife. London, Sixth Month 14th, 1827. Having had a journey of unexampled speed, it allows me to inform thee by this post of my safe arrival 84 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. in London. I reached the Four Swans at two o'clock this afternoon, and find myself quite as well as usual. It seems hardly credible that we have actually travelled two hundred miles in twenty-two hours and a half. To Josiali Forster. York, Tenth Month, 1827. Is there not something to be learned, if not to be imitated, in the system of the Methodists, which calls so much into action the various talents of its members, and to which, I think, that Society owes much of its increase and energy ? And though we know that spiritual life can be the alone proper source of spiritual activity, yet I beheve, where there is a -considerable share of the former, there may be an habitual want of the latter, induced by the force of example and mistaken views. My friend James Backhouse having found himself engaged to visit the families of Friends in this place, I have felt myself bound to accompany him. To the same. Third Month 3rd, 1828. I hope with thee that, as a body, we are not en- couraging lethargy ; if, however, I am asked if I see any cure for this tendency by an alteration of our system, I should answer that I am not prepared to point out any, and I should be very sorry to see any innovation of our great principle in regard to worship, or those other points which thou enumerates. If our office of overseer was more than it is generally considered to be, and one of watching over the flock for good, including in it the care of youth as regards religious instruction, and if suitable persons for the office could be found thus imbued with its object, I think great good would be effected. Thou wilt say all my scheme depends upon an if, and that referring to ON ZEAL IN THE LORD'S SERVICE. 85 personal character ; and here, after all, is the remedy to be found moi-e than in any new system ; yet I say not that no alterations can be made. Dost thou not think that there has been a repression of useful gifts amongst us, under the idea that there must be the highest kind of influence or none at all ? And thus has not the exercise of proper abihty to minister of spiritual things to children, or a household, or in private, been dis- couraged ? This, however, is no part of our system, which certainly commenced with the full liberty of prophesying, and a free door for the exercise of all gifts, public and private, which were to edification. Is not, still, the message to our church, to our ministers, elders, overseers, and other concerned friends, to bestir them- selves in their respective districts, and, according to their respective gifts, to work in the service of the Temple ? I should be sorry to see a spurious zeal excited amongst us, but I should rejoice to feel myself, and to see in others, more of that mind which was in Christ, to whom were apphed the words of David, " The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up," i.e., engrossed all my powers and affections. XI. ILLNESS AND DEATH OF SAMUEL TUKE'S WIFE— HIS CHILDREN AT SCHOOL- YEARLY MEETING— LETTERS. 1827-1831. IN the Fourth Month, 1827, Priscilla Tuke gave birth to her twelfth and youngest child, Daniel. The event was succeeded by an alarming state of illness, from which she recovered for awhile, but without ever regaining her former standard of health. Her declining days are described in the letters written many years afterwards by her daughter Maria to her children, and from which we have already quoted. Our mamma was often ill at this time, and did not come downstairs till noon ; and when the weather was fine and warm, Robert drew her about the garden in a little hand-carriage which had belonged to Lindley Murray. When she thought Robert was tired, she would tell him to stand still, and then she would talk to us about the flowers, and the birds, and many other things. In the summer we generally went for a few weeks either to Harrogate, where we had to drink the sulphur water, or to Scarborough, where we always enjoyed the sands, and the donkeys, and the rocks ; but in the ILLNESS OF HIS WIFE. 87 summer of 1828 our dear mamma had a, long illness, and it was thought that a fresh place near the sea might be pleasant to her and do her good. It was agreed tha;t Hannah, Henry, Sarah, little Sam and I, should go too, and our kind aunt Maria was to go to take care of our mother. It was a beautiful day when we took that journey to Marsk, the last journey we ever took with our precious mamma. She enjoyed the beautiful country as we rode along, and she looked quite peaceful and happy, though very pale. As evening came on we drew near the sea, and at length drove up to our lodgings. Marsk was a small quiet place, and the houses were not very good, but the view of the sea and the cliffs was beautiful, and the sands broad and fine. The next day the party went out, expecting to have a pleasant drive on the sands, but an accident happened by which Priscilla Tuke was seriously shaken. About twelve o'clock (writes her husband) we set off for a drive, but one of the fore-wheels of the carriage sank so deep in the sand that the horses were unable to draw it out and broke the traces in the attempt. There was no personal danger whatever, and we were soon on the firm sand, when our dear Priscilla, supported by our kind sister Maria and our dear girls, walked gently towards our lodgings. Having extricated the carriage by the assistance of a number of men, who happened to be passing at the time, we soon overtook the party, and safely conveyed our invalid to our quarters. She was a httle overdone, but no materially unpleasant effects appeared to result. We read Paley's Horae Paulinae in the afternoon, and in the evening, the servants being also present, some hymns and a part of Isaiah. I thought we were a little strengthened 88 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. together, and enabled to approach the Throne of Grace for help under our various trials, and to return thanks for the mercies we enjoyed. My dear P. had a good night. But the system had received a severe shock ; the beloved patient rapidly grew worse ; and it was soon seen that there was no hope of recovery. She died on the i6th of Seventh Month. She was in her forty-fourth year. On Sixth-day (writes her daughter Sarah) Henry and 1 got tea with her. How little did we think it would be the last time ! In the evening, when I went to kiss her, she said, " Seek the Lord ! " It impressed me very much ; I believe I shall never forget it. Maria says : We were all standing by her bed, and when she was gone, our dear papa kissed her sweet pale face, and knelt down and prayed for himself and us, that we might be able to say " Thy will be done." Sarah and I went to bed and cried together for some time. The next day our papa read the 14th chapter of John to us, and we all wept together. Then we had to go home. It was a sad journey indeed. We could see the beautiful old Minster a long time before we reached York. Our papa was very sad ; he said he had never before seen it from a distance, when returning home, without pleasure. When we got home, everything seemed sad and strange for a long time. We often wept all together, when our dear papa knelt down after reading, and prayed that we might have strength given to us to bear the trial which our Heavenly Father had laid upon us, and when he thanked God that through the mercy of her dear Saviour, our precious mother was in heaven, where there is no more sickness, no more sorrow. PRISCILLA 'lUKE WITH HER CHILURICN JAMES AND KLUAIIETH. A STAGE COACH JOURNEY TO LONDON. 89 In 1828 Maria and Sarah were sent to boarding- school. The school was at Stoke Newington, and was under the care of Susanna Corder. At the same time their brother Henry was removed from Rochester to Grove House, Tottenham, then newly established, of which Thomas Binns was super- intendent, and where William Edward Forster and other well-known Friends were afterwards educated. Some description of these changes has been left by Maria in the Letters. After our mother's death our good aunt Maria came to live with us, and our papa thought it would be better for Sarah and me to go to boarding-school. Our brother Henry was to go at the same time to another school only a few miles distant. The journey, which was quite an affair in those days, is thus described : We were taken to the coach, and as there were four of us we filled the inside, and were soon whisked along the smooth road on the way to the great city. It was afternoon, and we travelled all that evening, until we got out and had our supper at a nice inn by the roadside. Then we got into the coach again ; and away we went through the darkness, the lamp on each side of the coach casting a broad flickering hght on the road as we passed along. We took off our bonnets and tied something warm round our heads, and tried to go to sleep. But soon the guard blew his horn quite loud^ and the coach stopped, and the coachman called out, " Gate, Gate ! " We were at a turnpike gate, and could not get through till the gate-keeper was awoke out of his sleep and opened it. Then we went on again, stop- go LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. ping often to change horses, and to breakfast and to dine, and in the afternoon we came to Tottenham. We stopped at a large house ; the guard blew his horn, and we found it was Grove House, where dear Henry was to leave us. We went on a little further along the road, till at last we came to the end of the street in Stoke Newington, where we were going to school. A porter took our boxes and we walked to the house.i How frightened we felt, but our kind aunt cheered us wp, and the lady who kept the school spoke very kindly to us, and we were led to the room where we were to sleep, and then into the school-room, where there were about twenty young ladies sitting at their desks very quietly. We had never seen any of them before, but we both thought we should like the school pretty well ; and so we did. Dear Sarah and I had desks close together. Her' sister describes Sarah as tall and slender, sweet-looking and gentle, yet never afraid to do right. Although not reckoned very clever she took so much pains to learn that she knew quite as much as other girls of her age. Her sympathy went out to such as were in trouble or despised. If she saw any girl slighted and unable to obtain a partner in the accustomed walk, she would go up to her and say : " Wilt thou walk with me to-day, dear ? " When the summer came the two sisters went home and had a very happy vacation. In the Tenth Month, 1829, Samuel Tuke's little son of the same name, being his eleventh child, was I Fleetwood House in Church Street. It was the residence of, and was partly built by, the Parliamentarian General Fleetwood. It was pulled down about twenty years ago. AN ITINERARY OF KNOWLEDGE. 91 taken from the family circle. He was always a delicate boy, and when he became ill with the measles he had not the stamina to resist the disorder. After his mother's death he enjoyed the constant attentions of his aunt Maria, whose greatest delight (remarks Samuel Tuke), was to store his little mind and to make him happy. Tenderer tears, he adds, and heavier sighs have seldom been, than fell over his little grave. His spirit had gone, we trust, in peace to Him who gave it, through the redeeming mercy of Christ. "Suffer little children to come unto Me." To his son Henry. York, Second Month 13th, 1830. You have had a capital skating season, and I sup- pose thou wilt have become almost an adept in the art ; though I presume and trust thou art studying hard to get as much done in these last few weeks of thy. academical life, as thy health and strength will allow. Would it not be a useful exercise to thee, with thy master's judicious aid, to draw out a sort of map of human knowledge, and to note the parts with which thou art already acquainted, and lay down a plan or course for future pursuit as opportunity may be afforded ? Such an outline may be to a young student , what a good itinerary is to a traveller, a guide which prevents his taking unnecessary steps on his journey. Thou hast got a fair share of knowledge in the department of signs ; but as these are only useful in reference to things, we must keep their subserviency in mind, and not esteem them much for their own sake. All other branches of human knowledge are included under the two great divisions of physics and meta- 92 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. physics ; and under each of these thou wilt find, of course, a large number of entries under thy head of desiderata ; but a good arrangement of thy wants, and the best order of pursuing them, would, as I have already said, be of great service to thee ; for I hope we may find thee a little time for intellectual pursuits amongst those of a different kind. I wish thee to enter into business with that energy which is due to the means by which thy future maintenance is to be obtained, but always to remember that business is not the end, but the means of life, and that there are higher and paramount objects which ought ever to be held in view by an intellectual and immortal being. " The life is more than meat, and the body than raiment." In 1830 Samuel Tuke attended the Yearly Meeting. Josiah Forster was appointed Clerk, and George Stacey and himself assistants. Diary. Fifth Month 1 8th.— Select Meeting. Anna Braithwaite returned her certificate and gave a brief summary of her American labours. One circumstance she mentioned which struck me forcibly. She said, wherever Friends had been preserved in an humble sense of their own fallen state and need of a Saviour, there, whether having the five, the two, or only the one talent, she found they had been preserved from the seducing spirit.^ 19th. — Adjournment of Select Meeting. At the conclusion William Forster made some instructive remarks. When ministers had been favoured with ability to preach baptizingly, it was very needful to guard against exultation, and to leave all to the Lord, from whom all power comes. A snare often lay in the desire to know what effect our preaching has had. He had found in his own case that this leads to weakness. If I This refers to the Hicksite secession. THE CHURCH MUST FOLLOW CHRIST. 93 the power should be less striking, still to leave all to the Lord ; to take care not to add or to diminish. Advan- tage of judicious fatherly help to young ministers, but great care required in its exercise ; not to push for- ward ; often best to leave to God. Thought some had been called forward before the priest's garments had been rightly put on them, and some urged to action not sufficiently prepared. The priests who ministered in the temple had to wash in the brazen sea each time on entering ; perhaps this indicated the individual and spiritual preparation of those who minister in holy things under the present dispensation. Afternoon. — Observations on the state of the Society. William Forster made some striking remarks before the meeting closed, on the duty of the Church to stand pre- pared for whatever it may be called to. Not to be limited as to mode or direction. The great point was to ascertain where the cloud rested, and then, whether night or day, to go forward wherever it leads. Inti- mated the possibihty of Friends being led in a some- what different way from what they had been. Samuel Tuke to his sister Esther Priestman. York, Eighth Month 14th, 1830. I send with this a copy of Whitehead} of which I beg your acceptance, and for which I desire I may have no thanks, as you are fairly entitled to it for your con- tribution to the work by giving me board and lodging whilst writing the introduction. The introduction referred to may be com- mended to the reader as containing a luminous exposition, in a few words, of the origin of the Society of Friends, and the character of its first members. I Memoirs of George Whitehead, by Samuel Tuke, 1830. 94 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. To Josiah Forsler. (On the Future Prospects of France.) First Month 3rd, 1831. I was pleased to find that thou had safely returned irom Paris. I fear that city is destined to undergo further trials. ^ The experiment seems trying in France whether, abandoning the ties of revealed religion and the influence of superstition, the people can be held -together in the enjoyment of civil liberty. I doubt it, unless the principle of military glory under some one great leader should bind the spirits of men in one common object, by which their individual selfishness may for a time be suppressed. Mankind must, I believe, be governed either by the magician's wand, or Aaron's rod. If superstition be wholly abandoned, without the influence of true religion being introduced, I should expect anarchy to be the result — that despotism would follow, that ignorance would be the accompaniment of despotism, and that superstition, of some kind or other, would not be long in again making its appearance. These views make me regard with less interest than most persons do many of the changes that are taking place, both at home and abroad. It is, however, thou wilt say, a strong ground for zeal in such a cause as thou hast been to Paris to promote, and I heartily wish it success. Would that it might please the All-wise Disposer of events to raise up in France some powerful advocate of pure Christianity, and that the minds of the people might be opened to receive the truth. A ray of hope that some such superhuman help may arise some- times cheers a little my view of France. I firmly believe that, were we the devoted people that we ought to be, we should not be mere spectators of the present state of things on the continent of Europe, and that at home also we should be more efficient than we are. XII. VISIT TO CUMBERLAND AND WESTMORE- LAND—FRIENDS' PROVIDENT INSTI- TUTION—DEATH OF SAMUEL TUKE'S DAUGHTER SARAH. 1831, 1832. Samuel Tuke to his daughter Hannah. Wigton, 28th of Third Month, 1831. NOT to tire you with the history of every stage, I had rather a cold ride to Penrith, where, in the morn- ing, I called on my old friends the widow Ritson and sister and niece, and was soon engaged to quarter. I was quite astonished to find the old widow, as regards mental energy, so like what she was some five-and- twenty years ago. She is about to enter her ninety-third year. Many persons would think themselves poor under the circumstances of this family, but I question whether there are many houses in Penrith where there is so large a portion of real comfort ; and it was, I thought, a strong living lesson on the power of religion and the comforts which it is really calculated to bestow. After an early dinner on Seventh-day, I walked to Yanwath to see another old friend, Thomas Wilkinson. I met his sister Barbara, with an armful of sticks, on the green before the house, on entering which I found the old man, quite blind, sitting by the fireside, cheerful 96 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. and resigned to his lot, and with no less relish than heretofore for conversation, and an undiminished interest in his friends. I met him again the next morning at meeting at Terril, where the congregation was but fourteen persons, with the addition of three to its usual number. Thomas Christy came on Seventh-day evening. We called on most of the Friends, and took leave of our kind hostesses about ten this morning ; from this place going, however, a few miles out of our way, to call on a few scattered Cumberland sheep amongst the mountains. Their situation is indeed desolate. About eight of their number were taken off last year by typhus fever. They live at the foot of a huge mountain, with a morass in front. The few Friends that belong to the little meeting of Mosedale are like the flowers which you see here and there about an old abbey, indicating that once it had been cultivated and flourishing : like the Howers, too, I fear they are a good deal returned to the wild state. Most of the families in these vales are descended from Friends, so extensive was the convincement in early times. In the autumn Samuel Tuke visited the meetings in Westmoreland, under the same appointment. Ninth Month 8th. — Crook meeting, about six miles from Kendal. Five men and two women present ; of whom four were not members. The meeting-house is situate very near to the parsonage, where the key of the house is kept, and the minister's wife makes the fires in winter for Friends. The number of members has not been large within the last fifty years, but they are considerably reduced within the last twenty years. One of the members after the meeting said, in a sorrowful and somewhat reproachful manner : " Ah ! so many are gone to the towns to get money ; it would have been far VISIT TO FRIENDS IN WESTMORELAND. 97 better to have stayed in the country.'' It was remarked that there were some advantages in towns, and that the enemy found his way into the fields as well as into cities. Preston Patrick, on Sixth-day morning. Twelve persons present. Only one family in membership, consisting of the parent and three children. In the memory of persons living, this meeting was large and had many ministers. There is a record of a subscrip- tion to assist Friends of Kendal ; and a minute of another meeting, Grayrigg, appointing a committee to sit with the few Friends at Kendal. The state of these small meetings excited feelings of sympathy and regret. As regards numbers, however, I think the reduction is mainly to be attributed to emigration. They appear evidently to have been the nurseries of our large meetings in towns. Most of the families in Kendal, and many in Manchester and Liverpool, have sprung from these country situations. I observe, in the early records Of the Society, that in the advice relative to education, a reference is made to fitting youths for trades. The influence of this view, and the superior degree of education which in earlier times prevailed amongst Friends in comparison with their neighbours, has led them to leave the country, where families were only to be maintained by the hardest personal labour, to enter into towns, where their degree of knowledge enabled them to compete with those who lived in them, and, of course, they rarely, if ever, returned to their agricultural pursuits. Had the zeal of the Society continued, there would, I doubt not, have been a succession of new members ; but as this is not the case there appears but little reason to wish the continuance of these very small meetings, where there is so little society among Friends and so few meet together in their places of worship. gS LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. The establishment of the Friends' Provident Institution was in agitation this year, 1831. Samuel Tuke had been concerned by observing how many failures in business had occurred amongst the circle of Friends in Yorkshire. His attention was also drawn, whilst serving on the Ackworth School Com- mittee, to the need of more provision by way of assurance at death, as well as for the opportunity of obtaining immediate or deferred annuities, by teachers and others earning salaries dependent for their con- tinuance on health and ability. Whilst he was in Westmoreland, he wrote to John Hipsley, suggest- ing that he should submit at the approaching Quarterly Meeting at York, a proposition for the establishment of a new institution to supply the wants just indicated. The Friends' Provident Institution enjoyed a more propitious advent than had been that of the Retreat forty years before. A suggestion for the foundation of an Assurance office had already been made at the Ackworth General Meeting. The Quarterly Meeting, or at least a conference of Friends held during its sittings, now appointed a committee to collect information and to prepare rules. Samuel Tuke acted as chairman, and Benjamin Ecroyd as secretary, to this provisional committee. Gradually, with the aid of Mr. Newman of the Yorkshire Fire and Life Assurance Company, the scheme took definite shape, and, in a more mature form, was sub- mitted to the Ackworth General Meeting of 1832. " I THE "FRIENDS' PROVIDENT INSTITUTION." 99 cannot," says John S. Rowntree, from whom the foregoing account is derived,^ "deal more concisely with Samuel Tuke's early connection with the Friends' Provident Institution, and his views upon life assurance, than by quoting a few sentences from the report of the institution for 1858 : — " It is with feelings of peculiar interest the directors have to notice the decease of Samuel Tuke, who may be regarded as the founder of this institution, for it was he who, prompted by suggestions contained in the unpublished writings of his grandfather, William Tuke, in the year 1808, first brought the desirableness and practicability of such an establishment prominently into view, and was the man, who with the aid of able co- adjutors, called it into existence, and prepared it to diffuse its benefits to those who might avail themselves of its provisions. The directors think they cannot pay a better tribute to the memory of their old friend than by recording his own words in reference to the institu- tion : ' A truly wise man may find many avenues of wealth closed to him, and in the pursuit of those which are lawful, he is under the restraining influence of principles which refer to higher and nobler acquisitions. But industry in business, prudence in expenditure, and some restraint in present indulgences, with a view to a moderate provision for future wants of life, and for those who are dependent upon us, are among the general effects of a sound religious state of mind ; and, on the contrary, the idea that the pursuit of religion calls for the abandonment of the cares of life, or that it is compatible with indolence, or with the free expendi- ture of our money upon what is unnecessary for us, when we have made no provision for the probable and I " Samuel Tuke." Friends' Quarterly Examiner. 4th Month, 1895. 100 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. almost certain wants of sickness, age, or other vicissitudes, is utterly at variance with true wisdom, and with that godliness which is profitable for all things, for the life which now is and for the life which is to come.' " Going back a little, we again take up Maria Tylor's narrative. After the sisters had been two years at school, Sarah returned to Stoke Newington alone. It was a sad parting. The day before she left she wrote in her pocket book : " Last day at sweet home, and then the long, long journey." Soon after returning to school her health began to fail. She said little in her letters about her ailments ; and just at that time the whole family at home, including Samuel Tuke himself, became ill with typhoid fever, which lasted many weeks. When the patients were getting better they went to Acomb, a village near York, for change of air. Here they heard from Susanna Corder that Sarah had a cough and was seriously ill. Their fears were at once awakened and Samuel Tuke's sister Maria set off immediately for Stoke Newington. Sarah (writes M.T.) did not know she was coming. She was so weak that she did not go into the school- room, but sat in a little parlour and read and employed herself as she liked. Her schoolfellows loved her, and she had many notes from them, and little nosegays and kind messages. She wrote in her book : " To my great astonishment dear aunt came. Oh, how grateful I should be." The next day she wrote : " Sitting with aunt in the little parlour, William Allen came to see me. He sat awhile with us, and then said it was a great comfort to look to the dear Redeemer and to feel the love o£ ILLNESS OF SARAH TUKE. ,ioi God, which he had no doubt I had felt. I do hope I have felt some little of it." Her aunt thought her looking much worse than she expected, but Sarah was so happy to have her with her that she was quite cheerful. Her aunt sent for Dr. Hodgkin. He said she must be taken to Hastings to spend the winter. Kitty, our old cook, was sent down to go with them. Sarah said how pleasant the journey was, and how beautiful the views were as they drove along. Samuel Tuke decided to shut up his house at York and make a family party at Hastings. Accord- ingly, on the ist of Twelfth Month, he left home with several of his children and one of the servants. M.T. thus continues her narrative : We were several days on the road. Our papa tried to make us happy, and read Milton's poems, and made James and me learn one of his sonnets about the poor Waldenses, who were so cruelly treated because they were faithful to their Saviour. We should have enjoyed the journey if it had not been that we were so very anxious about dear Sarah. It was a stormy after- noon when we drove up to the lodgings. As soon as we had had tea I was allowed to see her. She was lying on a sofa, looking so thin and pale that I felt almost choked with grief. She was much pleased to see us and looked as sweet and simple as ever. Sometimes I was left alone to take tea with her, or to sit by her, and then she would look and speak so sweetly, though she never said much about herself. One day she asked me to forgive her for any unkind word she had ever said. I longed to ask her to forgive me, for I thought I had far more often been unkind to her, but my heart was so full I could not speak. She 102 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. often asked us to repeat the 46th Psalm. We read Henry Martyn's life, which she quite enjoyed. She did not wish to hear any books which did not lead her to think of God and to love Him. Her father writes : My dear Sarah's appearance was very affecting to me. She was extremely emaciated and weak. Her form, always slender, had become much more so, but her countenance had lost none of that peculiar sweet- ness and simplicity which always marked it, and especially when meeting those she loved. She took, nevertheless, a lively interest in passing things ; and, though she spoke of future engagements as conditional — if she recovered — yet she looked at times with pleasure to home pursuits during the ensuing summer. Samuel Tuke continued at Hastings till the 22nd of Twelfth Month, when he was re-called by cares and sickness at home. The medical man (he continues) expressed his opinion that it would be a protracted case, and that I might safely be absent for a month. The extreme weakness of my dear child, however, the hectic flush which so often suffused her left cheek, and some other symptoms, made me fearful at my departure that I was bidding the last farewell. Our parting was solemn. We were all together, and prayer was made for preser- vation, for the sanctification of our trials, and the special support of our dear sufferer. I had had that morning, and at some other times, very pleasing conversation with her in regard to her state. Her mind was always remarkable for its simplicity ; she took no complicated views ; and the same character marked her religious experience and sentiments. She was constitutionally docile and amiable, but I believe had passed many DEATH OF SARAH TUKE. 103 years of her life with fewer decided religious impres- sions than most children. She survived her father's departure only eleven days. On the morning of her decease, when her aunt was speaking to her of her own love for her, and of the higher love of her Saviour, Sarah said emphatically, " That was love ! " adding, that she did love Him, but desired to love Him still more. She died on the 2nd of First Month, 1832. The remains were laid in the quiet little burial-ground by the Meeting-house at Chichester, near the grave of her grandfather Hack. XIII. LETTERS— SAMUEL TUKE INVITED TO REPRESENT YORK IN PARLIAMEIJIT— SPEECH AT THE GENERAL ELECTfON, 1833- Samuel Tuke to Josiah Forster. 24th of First Month, 1832. THOU knowest, I believe, that I am desirous not to draw naiTow limits to our Christian uniformity. In reference to this subject, that expression of the apostle I am persuaded is true, " Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty" ; and the converse is equally true, that so soon as that spirit declines, whilst the form is retained, so soon does the narrowness of human system encroach upon us, an encroachment wholly incompatible with those varieties in that measure of grace and proportion of faith, which God has been pleased to give to his creatures. A great variety is compatible both with harmony and unity ; and it is to me one of the recommendations of the Society to which I belong, that there is in it so little of the imposition of the human lines of faith. Indeed it seems to have been one of the great objects for which the Society was raised, to demolish those lines, and to establish again that liberty of the Spirit, 104 VARIETY IN UNITY. 105 which had been so much lost during the Apostacy, and so imperfectly i-estored at the Reformation. That Apostacy, and the imperfect restoration from it, has led, I apprehend, to the present sectionary appearance of the Church, which is likely to continue until the Spirit is more abundantly poured upon us from on high, and until, under its healing wings, the now scattered and even jarring members of the common family shall be united in the liberty and in the love of the pure and simple gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. When that is the case I do not imagine we shall be much wiser on the points which divide Arminians from Calvinists, or even on the nicer distinctions of what is deemed orthodox divinity ; but that we shall see more clearly the extent of our loss by sin and our gain by Christ, and be more earnest for the help of the Spirit to make our calling and election sure. I believe that in such a state of things, the views which our Society has taken of the immediate influence of -the Spirit will not pass away. And though all of our inferences from that doctrine may not be equally durable, yet as they appear to me generally deduced from it, I do feel it is my duty to endeavour to support them ; and I cannot but regret what appears to me calculated to lower them in the esteem of our members. To the same. York, 25th of Fourth Month, 1832. The opposition of wrong is not necessarily right. The love and the effect of novelty on the mind on one hand, and the blind love of antiquity on the other, are two of the extremes to which we are apt to return. It seems to me that those who have been once rather addicted to the latter amongst us are those who are now in danger of falling into the other.. io6 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. How far we may differ and yet rightly continue together in religious fellowship, is a point which fre- quently occupies my thoughts. The question would stand differently if we were the only Christian church, instead of being a section parted from the rest on par- ticular grounds. If any abandon the grounds on which we originally separated, can they continue to belong to our section ? I mean the great leading principles, and the chief practical inferences which are drawn from them. In 1832 the cholera, which appeared first in the north of England, spread over the whole country. On his return from the Yearly Meeting, Samuel Tuke's time and attention were closely occupied in endeavouring to arrest the progress of the disease in his own city. To Josiah Forster. (No date.) I have been much engaged as a member of the Board of Health since my return from London. A tolerably complete visitation of the poor has taken place, and they have been pretty freely supplied with meat, etc. Our experience here is far from supporting high views on the subject of contagion. Very few indeed of those who have gone most freely and have been most engaged amongst the sick, have been attacked by the disorder. I am inclined to think that it may be com- municated, but that it requires the concurrence of more circumstances, both local and personal, than most other disorders which are generally pronounced contagious. To the same. York, loth of Tenth Month, 1832. The proposal of Daniel Wheeler to visit Van Diemen's Land, New Holland, and the islands in the MISSIONS TO THE HEATHEN. 107 South Pacific, was, I hope, solidly and rightly issued by our Quarterly Meeting. There is room, I believe, for an increased interest amongst us in regard to distant lands ; but after all I have heard, read, and thought about the missionary subject, I cannot make that dis- tinction between unchristian people in a country where the name of Christ is known, and the depraved people where He is not outwardly known, and;more especially that portion of the former class who have been blinded from their birth by the examples and precepts of sin. Their state is as heathen, as pitiable, and I believe as remediable, as that of the idolatrous world. I have tried, for the last two or three years, to stretch myself to a more lively distinct interest for the pagan ; and as soon as I cease trying, I come back to this : Satan's kingdom is wherever man remains in his natural state, the servant of sin ; and Christ reigns where, and where only, men are brought by subjection to his Spirit to renounce sin. Now, not to speak of persons favour- ably circumstanced who refuse the offers of grace, there are numberless places in England where Satan may be said to reign with almost undisputed sway, where no efficient and patient efforts have been made to reclaim the people who are sitting in darkness. Look at our people in many of the rural districts ; look at many of our manufacturing towns, or at many parts of your great city. What fields ! and I know not but white for harvest. But I do not disparage the foreign labourers. Let every man go where the love of his Divine Master truly calls him ; and that love, which is infinite in the Head, would be large enough in the mem- bers, were they healthy, to send the message of his love to all nations ; but there may be an unhealthy extension of the comparative claim of the distant and the near, and of those who are i-eally ignorant of the name of Christ, and those who have known it only to blaspheme. io8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. To bring the matter close to our question in regard to missions : I have come to this present conclusion, to which I acknowledge my mind has always tended, though it has had many oscillations. If any amongst us are constrained by the love of Christ to go to proclaim the Gospel to the heathen, and the church have unity with their individual concern, let them by all means go forth, and we are provided with an arrangement for all their needful charges. If any wish to go and live amongst the heathen to civilize and teach them, let their fitness and judiciousness b6 well tried. Let it be known that they are not acting under the impulse of a morbid or ill-informed conscience. When such are found, I have no objection to add my mite to help them.^ If we were more in earnest, I doubt not considerable variety of means would arise to stir up good, according to the circumstances of the Society in various places, and the varied gifts of individuals. What hinders us is, I am persuaded, the love of the world ; and the message to us, I believe, is " Be zealous and repent, and do the first works " ; but who shall sound forth this message so as to be heard in the resorts of our business and the chambers of our delights ? If we had new arrange- ments instituted amongst us, I believe they would rather impede than excite new life and vigour. Every degree of machinery in spiritual matters which is not desirable in a state of health, only serves to confirm our weakness. Art is added to art, till at length true life is confounded with artificial motion. I apprehend we are at that period of our history in which we are tending to art. And we cannot travel many steps on that road without ceasing to be Quakers. For I This letter was written a generation before the Society began to take definite action in sending the Gospel to the heathen. The Friends' Foreign Mission Association was founded in 1866. In 1882 the Home Mission Committee was set apart by the Yearly Meeting. HINDUISM. 109 it was the glory of that name that those who bore it left art for nature, or, rather, machinery for spiritual life,, and found the road to great order with few laws, and to warm devotion with the simplest ordinances. Probably our long continued not-doing for want of more life, may operate as a hindrance to the really lively in their right service among the young, or other members of the meeting they reside in, and the query might well be put whether Friends are giving up sufficient of their time, for the good of others. But this, again, is connected with moderation in our engagements, for if we enter into large and hazardous businesses and do not closely attend to them, more mischief results than can be compensated for by any good done. So that here again we come to that great exhortation of our fathers — Mind the truth. It is a principle which, like the laws of the planetary bodies, keeps each in its right place, at all times. Memorandum. 8th of Second Month, 1833. — In conversation with Eustace Carey (nephew of Dr. Carey),, who has been much in India, the subject of Hinduism and its influence on the people who profess it was one of the topics. He expressed his conviction that it has no tendency whatever towards morality, but, on the contrary, that it tends to stifle the convictions of con- science, and to represent the Divine Being as wholly unconnected with justice, mercy, and truth. Its highest acts are voluntary tortures and self-sacrifice, and its highest contemplations are of God as a being who pervades all things, and who is all things, and to whom evil and good are alike indifferent, being equally in both, and having decreed the final absorption of all things into himself through a state of complete evil. Those who have the highest conceptions of the Supreme Being, and who are so nearly absorbed in him as to be ready at the point of death for the suture of their skulls to no LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. open and let out the soul to God, may be thieves^ or liars, or adulterers ; the martyr himself may be a monster of iniquity. He was asked whether he had observed that there is any sense of right and wrong in those who have not known the Holy Scriptures or the moral law which they promulge. He answered un- hesitatingly ! "Yes, there is nothing which we can appeal to with so much effect as the judgment within them of the great lines of good and evil. The only way a Hindu can be met is by an appeal to his conscious- ness, to the seat of judgment within him. Our book has no authority with him ; but though his religion exonerates him from it, he does not deny the existence of a sense of right and wrong. He will tell you it would be well if you would go and make all your countrymen mind it, and will say, ' they cheat, steal, and lie as much as we do.' " To Josiah Forster. York, 30th of Twelfth Month, 1833. We cannot but see that we stand much in need of shaking from some or other of the various kinds of the dust of the earth. We are far from living up to our principles ; and we have very few qualiiied by deep experience to help the inquiring, and to speak a word in season to the weary. Though I know the Great Shepherd is able and wiUing to feed his own lambs ; yet it is a part of the economy of his fold, that there should be those, I do not mean exactly public preachers, who should feed the hungry lambs. The want of vitality amongst us which tends to this deficiency of true pastors, thus leaves awakened, or curiously inquiring minds open to teachers who are not of our fold, and who, I believe, do not hold the truth as it is in Jesus so clearly as it has been held by our Society. INVITED TO REPRESENT YORK. iii When the love of churches has become cold, they have usually attributed it to the deficiency of past means. We are, I apprehend, just in that position ; whilst perhaps, on the other hand, some may be adhering, in a sectarian spirit, to the very forms of our lifelessness, and considering our late dull and dor- mant state as the very perfection of the Church. The struggle between these opposite parties will generally, in unprejudiced minds, be in favour of the revivalists, and so the simplicity of the truth is spoiled. Never did we, my dear friend, more need to seek for wisdom from on high, that wisdom which the apostle describes as containing so many Christian graces, first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy' and good fruits. A vacancy occurring in the representation of the city of York, in the autumn of this year, a requisition, signed by between two and three hundred citizens, was presented to Samuel Tuke, inviting him to come forward as the Liberal candidate. The following answer was returned : To the Freemen and other Electors of the City of York. Having received a requisition signed by a consider- able number of my fellow-citizens, inviting me to become a candidate for the representation of the city of York, I hasten to make you, the subscribers of that requisi- tion, those acknowledgments which are called for by such an expression of your confidence and esteem. I must be either more or less than man, to be wholly indifferent to the good opinion of those amongst whom I have passed my life ; but I should be more unworthy than I am of those favourable sentiments, if I were to 112 LIFE, OF SAMUEL TUKE. allow them to make me forget my own real qualifica- tions, or those circumstances in my private condition which have an immediate bearing upon the important question which you have proposed to me. Though it is altogether remote from my prospects or ambition to leave the humble walk in which I am placed, I have felt it my duty to give the most serious consideration to the application which you have been pleased to make to me ; and in that consideration there was at least one bias in its favour, viz., a sincere desire to promote, according to my ability, the best interests of my native city. The result of my consideration is, the firm conviction of my unfitness for the high and important trust, which you are willing to repose in me as one of your representatives in Parliament. But had I been led to form other sentiments of myself, I feel that there are duties attached to my present circum- stances and station, which are paramount to those you invite me to undertake, duties which would be incompatible with that public- station, and which I could not abandon, and hope for the divine blessing on my efforts to serve you. Whilst, therefore, I am bound unhesitatingly to decline offering myself as a candidate to supply the vacancy in our representation in Parliament, allow me to say that I rejoice in the public avowal of the prin- ciples which your requisition to me recognizes or implies. Believe me, brother freemen and fellow-citizens, with sentiments of the most grateful esteem, Your sincere friend, Samuel Tuke. Thomas Dundas (afterwards Earl Zetland) was the Liberal candidate for the city. Partly in con- SPEECH AT THE ELECTION OF 1833. "3 sequence of the importance he attached to the principles of Reform, but chiefly because of the earnest endeavour made by the Liberal candidate to discountenance all forms of bribery, Samuel Tuke departed from his usual practice of avoiding a prominent part in these political contests. He issued an address to the electors, which turned mainly on the evils of bribery (a practice now, in its most obnoxious features, become a thing of the past) ; and upon the declaration of the poll, November 9th, he made an eloquent speech, in which he struck the true key-note of reform and progress. What is it (he asked) that makes the great distinc- tion between one country and another ? I know not, except it be the difference of moral principle. It is that, fellow-citizens, which truly dignifies and elevates, and which truly secures the rights and liberties of man- kind. It is not quite so rapid in its effects as some other means seem to be ; but it is stable, and certain, and permanent. It is the foundation on which all that is excellent, all that is glorious in private or public character, is built. If you act up to this, you will send men to Parliament of sound principles. You will send honest men, — that will be the first thing ; you will send able men ; you will not send men to dance for you at Almack's, or to waste the public money ; you will not send men to make the House of Commons a mere bear- garden, or a spouting-club ; but you will send men who think much, whether they speak much or not. You will learn to estimate, not the much that is spoken, by which we are so abundantly tickled at present, but the much that is done. You will look to the House of Commons 114 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. for moral integrity, for uprightness of conduct. I trust, fellow-citizens, this day is but the beginning of a better and a brighter day in our city. If we continue to act on those principles faithfully and fearlessly, we shall be able to do much towards reforming the House of Commons in the most essential particulars. There is not a freeman among you who may not thus promote the interests of his city and of his country. Rise, freemen, to the moral dignity of your character, and never be disgraced hereafter by any of the tricks of jugglers, men who would deceive you, and who say you are incapable of better things. I have had much intercourse, I am glad to say it, with my poorer fellow-citizens ; I have seen much of them, and have learned to esteem highly their good sense and their good feelings. I have also found that I could learn much from them ; I have always found them willing to listen to those who had anything modestly and properly to communicate to them. Though it is said to be an impossible attempt — though I know it is abundantly easier to wink with both eyes than to think — though it is abundantly easier to shrug our shoulders in despair than put them to the wheel — yet let us not be of those who less steadily pursue the course of moral truth, the course of reason and intelligence ; and then, brother freemen, though it seem an arduous task, you will succeed. No building has been erected at once ; it is by the accumulation of stone that the proudest edifice is reared. And in those moral and political edifices which we are seeking to rear, happy is he who labours obscurely, and even under obloquy, to lay the foundation stone ; happier is he who, like you, is called to build the walls of that temple ; and thrice happy is the man who is called by us all to place the top-stone on that temple, amidst the acclamations of assembled multitudes, crying, Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and goodwill towards men. (Loud and long-continued cheering.) SAMUEL TUKE AS A SPEAKER. 115 " Samuel Tuke," remarks John S. Rowntree, " was an admirable speaker, whether on the platform or in the meeting-house gallery. His voice was clear and sonorous, and he had a command of appropriate words for the accurate expression of his meaning, such as very few men possess." Joseph B. Braith- waite says : " Samuel Tuke's eloquence was delightful ; his choice of words singularly chaste, his manner calm and impressive, his enunciation distinct and clear. With the possible exception of John Bright at his best, I never remember a speaker to whom it was a greater pleasure to listen." 1 1 Friends' Quarterly Examiner, Fourth Month, 1895. XIV. CLERK TO THE YEARLY MEETING— "THE BEACON." 1832—1835. IN 1832 Samuel Tuke was appointed Clerk to the Yearly Meeting, an office which he filled six years in succession. It was a critical period in the history of the Society ; and the discharge of the office required a more than usual exercise of calm judgment, self-possession, and impartiality. The Society was agitated by the discussions arising out of the publication of The Beacon by Isaac Crewdson. " Very few," remarks John S. Rowntree, " of those who were present remain to tell of the skill with which Samuel Tuke guided the Yearly Meeting. We have seen old men kindle with enthusiasm, as they have told of the strong feeling excited by the events of 1835-6-7, of the strife of tongues, of the opposing counsels which found expression on every hand, till it sometimes seemed hopeless to try and record (in denomina- tional phraseology) the sense of the meeting. Then uprose the clerk, who disentangled the essential CLERK TO THE YEARLY MEETING. 117 threads of the discussion, set aside or disregarded the irrelevant side-issues which had been imported into it, showed seemingly antagonistic speakers that they were not so far separated as they had thought, and that any document issued by the Yearly Meeting must give due expression to the truth on which each had insisted. By the time the clerk's summing up was ended the meeting was ready to accept his minute, sketched in perspicuous and sometimes stately English, wherein men of different lines of thought found their views expressed better than they could have expressed them themselves, though in association with complementary declarations of divine truth which gave to the whole the impress of harmonious unity. "i The Society of Friends, to quote the Editors of Samuel Tuke's Memoirs, had its origin at a period of much religious excitement and outward pro- fession ; and its founders, strongly impressed with the evils attendant upon a mere formal and super- ficial religion, believed themselves called upon to direct the attention of their fellow-men to that inward work of the Holy Spirit, and that heartfelt, personal, application of the truth, without which all outward forms and observances are vain. In thus advocating important principles (and in the contro- versies in which they engaged respecting them), they not unfrequently employed modes of expression objectionable in themselves, and liable to serious I Idem. ii8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. misunderstanding. Long after these earnest and enlightened men had passed away, and when the ranks of the Society were recruited, rather from those who were born members, than by converted men, convinced of the truth of the principles they professed, there crept in, inevitably, a certain amount of that very formality and deadness, against which their ancestors in religious faith had so zealously protested. Some were led astray by attaching a dispi'oportionate and exclusive importance to the spiritual views inculcated by the early Friends, and were tempted to undervalue many of the great truths which are the groundwork of the Christian faith. Thus, at the close of the last century, a few indi- viduals in this country sank, by degrees, into a mystical system bordering upon infidelity, which was more fully developed in Ireland. It was also widely spread in America, and, being aggravated by the efforts of Elias Hicks, resulted, in the year 1827, in a large secession in most of the Yearly Meetings in that land. These painful results caused a strong reaction in the minds of many Friends, and with the inten- tion of guarding against such tendencies in future, Isaac Crewdson of Manchester was induced to publish a work called The Beacon, which, while mainly directed against the dangerous and insidious doctrines of Elias Hicks, was considered by many as an indirect attack upon some of the principles which have always distinguished the Society of SAMUEL TUKE ON RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 119 Friends. As Isaac Crewdson occupied the station of minister in the body, his publication caused con- siderable excitement throughout the Society ; and in Lancashire Quarterly Meeting, of which he was a member, so large an amount of disunity was occa- sioned, that the Yearly Meeting of 1835 was induced to appoint a committee to visit it and endeavour to restore harmony. Of this committee Samuel Tuke was an active member, and, in connection with his colleagues, earnestly laboured to promote concord, but without the desired effect, the separation of a considerable body from the Society, in Manchester and in other parts of England, taking place in the following year. Samuel Tuke's views on the doctrines of the early Friends, and on the secession, are frequently expressed at this time in letters to his friends. Two features of his character were very prominently brought out ; namely, his dislike, and indeed dread, of religious controversy ; and his aversion to any- thing bordering on a dogmatic systematization of divine truth. " I am," he says, writing from Man- chester in 1836, "sick of religious controversy." And again : " I have a great aversion to polemical dis- cussion ; but the times, alas ! compel many to enter more into it than they are inclined to do," The other feature of his character is strongly manifested by the following : " It is beyond man's power to lay down, as is so often attempted, the true theory of the divine conduct to man, except in a very general 120 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. manner ; nor is it much more easy to systematize the laws of the divine conduct, except in a very general manner. Our circle of vision on earth is far too limited to take in anything like the whole of the grounds of action towards man on the part of Omnipotence ; and it is most evident that the Bible affords us no encouragement for this theorizing and systematizing spirit." This feeling of his is the key to the caution which so strikingly characterised him, both in conversation and in writing, when he made any reference to religious doctrines, or to the different shades of opinion met with among Chris- tians. How often used he to say, when people were speaking of someone as " unsound," who in other respects was a striking example of Christian virtue, " I daresay if we could only agree as to the definition of some terms, we should find there is very little real difference of opinion between us." "The sectarian spirit," he says, "has no sense of how full a view is implied in those words, ' Oh, how I love thy law ! ' What is the precise sense in which men who speak the same words respectively use them, what may be the essential agreement between men who use different expressions, and what may be the variety of human understanding in the com- prehension of definitions and deductions, it is impossible to ascertain ; but the men who love the holy law of God, who walk in his fear and hope in his mercy, are of one faith, and serve one Lord. This is a greater proof and evidence that these men DIVERSITY IN UNITY. 121 love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, than can be given by all the fair words respecting Him which the mouth can possibly utter." As regards his feelings and the expression of them at the time of the secession, it is obvious that, believing as he did that the views held by the Society were essentially sound, he could not but feel and write earnestly on the subject, and regret that any should not view it in the same light, and should therefore feel it their duty to separate from the body. It must not, however, be supposed that he was prevented by a blind veneration from seeing any of the errors into which, both as regards their acts and writings, the early Friends as men might fall. He could call Barclay " the admirable apologist " ; but he still thought "that the principle lost something of its scriptural simplicity in passing through his mas- terly systematization," and that he was not suf- ficiently free from the "scholastic trammels" of his age. Further thoughts on the same subject are found in a letter written to a friend : There is a true unity in judgment with the early Friends which is quite compatible with some diversity of sentiment or expression ; and there is a blind accept- ance of every opinion and word which they have uttered, which is more out of unity with their spirit, and with their great testimony to Christ's teaching, than are the doctrines and conduct of some who make no profession with us at all. The early Friends were 122 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. men of like passions and infirmities with ourselves, and, though largely enlightened by the Spirit of Truth, they would not, if they were now with us, call on us to depend upon them, or their words, but upon Christ alone, as He reveals Himself to our understandings, and as He is plainly testified of in the New Testament. Those who were livingly united to each other in the early days did not all see eye to eye in every particular. It has been very instructive to me to observe how much of liberty, united with great condescension — and decision also — there was among them. In imposing no creed or articles of union, they did not express indifference to opinions or doctrines, as if they were merely united by a secret sympathy ; but, relying on the public declara- tion of their doctrines and practices, in connection with which many of them had been drawn into society with each other, and declaring their hearty acceptance of the Holy Scriptures as the words of God to man, they left room for those differences of administration and various measures of natural and spiritual understanding, which really exist in the true Church of Christ. All the churches in the land had bound themselves by articles, creeds, and confessions of faith, by which they tested one another ; and in refraining from this procedure, the early Friends acted in full accordance with the spirit and conduct of the primitive church. The first disciples of the Lord Jesus, though united in one faith, did not exactly accord in all matters ; and even the apostles, though so manifestly baptized with the Holy Ghost, did not see alike as to the degree in which the law, or old covenant, was superseded by the new. And how teaching is it to our natural dogmatism to read of the conduct of the great apostle Paul towards a weak brother, who did not see the liberty of the Gospel with respect to meats which had been offered to idols. I do not mean to say that the circumstances of those GOSPEL MINISTRY. 123 times, as compared with the present, allow of its being made an exact precedent for our action in this day, but it breathes that spirit of love, power, and sound- mindedness, which belongs to all times and is ever the best indication of a healthy condition of the Church. If, however, the weak brother had gone about requiring all his brethren to conform to his imperfect hght, and to oppose the clear judgment of the apostle that " an idol is nothing" and could not, by a supernatural agency, have in any way affected the meat which the blind, superstitious heathen had presented before it, I have no doubt he who would not allow himself to eat meat under such circumstances as would offend (hurt the erroneous but tender conscience of) his weak brother, would have resisted, with all his might, an attempt to impose the law of weakness upon the church. No one, probably, the Editors continue, held more strongly than did Samuel Tuke that the worship of God can only be acceptable when it is heartfelt ; or was more ready to support the views adopted regarding public worship by the Society of Friends as correct, and as best calculated to insure its spirituality and truthfulness. But he by no means condemned all other forms of worship. He thus remarks upon the Proposition of Barclay in which any sermon prepared by a minister is characterized as "what he hath studied and pre- meditated in his closet and gathered together from his own inventions " : — " Is this inference fair ? It does not follow that what is previously prepared must be from our own inventions, or that the mind of a person believing it his 124 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. ■duty to minister at certain regular times, may not be influenced by the Spirit in his previous preparation for the performance of his supposed duty. Who shall limit the Spirit, or say in what manner He may please to assist the infirmity of human reason ? Indeed, there are many Protestant ministers who maintain the necessity of the Spirit rightly to minister, and who believe that they have its aid in their honest endeavour to promote religion amongst men ; and can we take upon us to say that the Almighty cannot thus assist a truly pious man in his closet, and direct what he shall preach on any future day ? Or shall we say that those who (at stated times) enter their pulpit without any previous study, not doubting but that they shall receive assistance to preach, and who look to God for it, may not receive such aid, and may not acceptably minister to the people ? " XV. THE LANCASHIRE COMMITTEE — THE SEPARATION. 1835—1837. THE Committee appointed by the Yearly Meeting commenced its visit to Lancashire in the Sixth Month, 1835. On the 14th, Samuel Tuke writes to his uncle John Hipsley : The Lancashire Committee consists of thirteen Friends : Josiah and William Forster, William Allen, Joseph Marriage, Joseph John Gurney, Peter Bedford, Barnard Dickinson, Dr. Ash, Joseph Tatham, George Richardson, Edward Pease, George Stacey and S. T. This is the body to whom this truly important business is referred, a business which looks to me quite fearful, and sometimes almost overwhelming. There is yet no case before Manchester Monthly Meeting for us to take any part in deciding ; and, probably, much of the very first step in discipline — private labour — may have to be exercised by the Committee or some of its members,, before the Monthly Meeting is called upon to act. The Select Meeting is to be held on Third-day morning, and the rest of the day is to be devoted to our own private conference as to the mode of proceeding, and, perhaps, the comparison of our own views. We shall indeed have occasion for the spirit of judgment, and it is 126 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. encouraging to remember that the Lord does give liberally to those who ask Him. Oh, that we, and our friends too, may earnestly ask that the Lord may guide us by his counsel in the paths of safety, as regards our little Society, and to his glory ! . . . There is, doubtless, great need to be stirred up to greater diligence and dedication ; and if these troubles should deepen us in the Truth we may have occasion to rejoice that our long, quiet way has been disturbed. To the same. 4th of Eighth Month, 1835. I did feel it rather difficult to write upon the Manchester business, but I should have liked much to converse freely with thee on the subject, if opportunity had offered. It was no small satisfaction to find, on a very free and full conference of the members of the com- mittee, that we were essentially united in sentiment, and could act cordially together in the important business for which we were met. We proceeded with great caution, and for some time I believe were suspected of want of zeal for the cause we were expected to support ; but the course which we pursued, and which we thought the cause of truth and impartiality required, opened our way to a more free and open hearing from the Friends who were the especial object of our visit. This I think we had fully, and I hope the truth was freely spoken. We left also a written statement of our objections to Tlie Beacon with Isaac Crewdson, and parted from him with an acknowledgment on his part of the friendly treat- ment he had received. I cannot say, however, that I have much hope of immediate success from the visit, and indeed I am more than ever convinced that it is not the wisdom of man, but the power of God, which must be looked to for the effectual healing of our sad wounds. We are to meet again at Manchester on the 12th. ACTION OF THE COMMITTEE. 127 The further progress of the Committee is related in a letter from Samuel Tuke to his sister Elizabeth Hack, dated York, 8th of Second Month, 1836. I took my dear brother's^ letter with me to Man- chester, when we last went there, thinking I should find some intervals of leisure for friendly correspondence, but neither for body or mind did I find rest or leisure. I do not think there was anything which the Committee so much desired as a sound reconciliation. Their efforts have been unwearied to this end. I may state that the Committee has fully met the question between Isaac Crewdson and his friends on Scriptural grounds. His reply was fully considered, and our views expressed to him, but we did not think we were appointed to carry on a public controversy relative to the points in dispute. On meeting the Monthly Meeting before we left Lancashire, at our last visit, we stated our continued regret at the publication of The Beacon, and, at the same time, the satisfaction we derived from some of the state- ments which I. C. had made in regard to his own sentiments ; and, still reserving the further consideration to ourselves of the want of unity between the Friends of the Select Meeting, we stated that we did not feel called upon to recommend to the Monthly Meeting any disciplinary proceedings in regard to the doctrinal question. Here the matter rests at present. I believe there is no desire prevalent among Friends in Lancashire, and there is none in the Committee, to disown Isaac Crewdson as a member of the Society, but there is a strong and general feeling that he is not one in sentiment with the body, as it is or ever was con- i James and Rhoda Hack were amongst those who were influenced by The Beacon, and who in consequence left the Society ; they joined the Church of England. 128 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. stituted, and The Beacoiiis by.no means the only ground of their judgment. They think, thei-efore, that as a minister of the Society they cannot unite with him. I cannot but participate in the general sentiment that there is a discrepancy which would lead to practical differences, and I have much wished that I. C. would have entered'" into a frank exposition of his views respecting the state and character of the Society : his intercourse with us has been one of extreme caution. I am inclined to think that a little time will throw more light upon the state of things in Lancashire, and free it from the ambiguity which at present marks it. That some, perhaps many, may leave our ranks will not surprise me ; and, much as I regret it, and deprecate the drawing of narrow lines of Christian fellowship, I believe if we cannot act harmoniously together, separa- tion is desirable. There is a wide field for variety within the lines of true unity ; but when persons think that the very ground on which the Society was originally constituted is unfounded, and that the opposers of those who were instrumental in founding the Society were in the right on the main points of dispute between them, I do not see, unless we all come to that judgment, how there can be unity with such. Our little Society is indeed shaken to the root ; and the strength and health of its root-fibres must be tried. I should not fear at all the storms of this windy day if we were spiritually healthy. The firmest bond of early Friends was not mere doctrinal agreement but a practi- cal knowledge of the efficacy and comfort of the truths they held. They found a virtue in them which could keep the heart warm in the coldest dungeon, and sustain the body and mind under the severest sufferings. Their search was for peace with God, and they found it ; and their doctrines arose out of this search and this finding. THE RIGHT UNDERSTANDING OF SCRIPTURE. 129 The view which we take of Holy Scripture will always in great measure depend upon the point whence we view it, and the various states of the mind constitute so many different points. I hear people talk as if there were some grand intellectual point where all was to be seen fairly. I believe in no such thing. There is no such thing as an indifferent point, and I think most men's experience would convince them of it, by the different aspects in which portions of Holy Scripture impress them under different states of mind. For my own part I acknowledge that when looking speculatively at religious doctrines, I have often found ample room to cavil with Quakerism ; but when my heart has been most deeply in search for the saving knowledge of God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent, then the accordance of the primary views with Holy Scripture, and the dependence of the chief subordinate ones upon these, has appeared fully satisfactory to me. The Bible is said to be a very plain book, and so it essentially is : it does not need great human learning, or great talents, to learn its great truths. Yet it is a deep book, not understood by superficial observers, nor penetrated by mere intellectual power. Its truths are hid from the wise and prudent and revealed unto babes. How unintelligible was one of its great truths to a master in Israel, and how slow of understanding were our Lord's own disciples in the appreciation of his character. How unwilling were the Jews and Greeks who received Christianity from the Apostles to see its full scope, its liberty, and yet its restraint ; and how immediately were the doctrines, taught with apostolic power, misunder- stood and corrupted. All these tendencies, the root of which really is in human nature, remain unchanged. I cannot, therefore, quite agree to the appeal (in theway it is frequently made) to the Holy Scriptures, as if everybody could really determine the questions in 130 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. dispute by a reference to them. You know how much I have wished my own young people, and others, to be acquainted with the Bible, and I am not changed in that respect ; but for the true understanding of it, there is, I believe, no platform but that of a lowly, humble, earnest, prayerful mind, and no organ by which to discern it but the eye touched by Christ's own finger. But then, the whole is seldom seen at once, as people seem now to expect, and I believe still more seldom (if possible) seen in the form of a theological system. I know these observations are liable to be misunderstood, but I am writing to those who, I think, know that I hold the Holy Scriptui"es to be the only outward test of doctrine, and the only arbitrator in our doctrinal discussions with other Christians. I am sick of religious controversy. Would that our earnestness to be like Christ — conformed to Him — bore any considerable proportion to our earnest- ness on these matters. I have just heard that John Wilkinson and his wife have resigned their membership. Let not these things move us : they are no new events in the church. John Wilkinson was a prominent minister in the Society of Friends. The letter to the Monthly Meeting which accompanied his resignation was printed ; and as it contained a direct attack upon many of the principles of the Society, Samuel Tuke thought it his duty to publish a pamphlet in reply. This was entitled, " A letter to John Wilkinson on some statements contained in his Letter of Resigna- tion of Membership in the Society of Friends." (Third Month, 1836.) Samvxel Tuke's letter called forth a rejoinder from J. W., which was printed with the title, THE COMMITTEE AT MANCHESTER. 131 "Quakerism Examined, in reply to the letter of Samuel Tuke." (1836.) Samuel Tuke to his daughter Maria. Liverpool, 14th of Ninth Month, 1836. I found Henry at Manchester on Fourth-day morn- ing, and he stayed till Seventh. I had intended to have gone to Liverpool that evening, to spend First-day there ; but we were detained too late in council for the last train, so I stayed at Manchester, and was not sorry that I did so. In the morning Joseph John Gurney was mainly engaged. The afternoon meeting was put off to the evening, and the attendance of the younger classes particularly requested at Dr. Ash's desire. Dr. Ash was engaged at considerable length in a close and searching testimony to the direct teachings of the Holy Spirit, and spoke with great feeling and effect of the importance of young persons taking heed to the voice of the Lord in the secret of the soul ; declaring it to be his own experience when a child that in obedience to that voice there was true peace, and, in the contrary, anguish of soul. We have had some very painful sittings at Man- chester ; not from any want of harmony amongst ourselves, but from the nature of our deliberations. It is evident that the parties are each of them becoming more decided, and that a crisis is not far off. The prospect of these divisions, and the probable state of our Society when they have taken place, are distressing subjects of contemplation. Our investigations have been far from leading me to doubt that our religious Society is founded on the basis of pui-e Christian truth, as set forth in the New Testament ; yet we know it is quite possible to hold the purest principles in a bare formality, or, whilst professing them, to narrow the basis of divine 132 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. truth ; and the degree in which this pievails amongst us is perhaps the greatest ground of our danger. If we were, more generally than we are, united to our principles by a living tie, and if we knew that they were sufficient to sustain us in the hour of need, there would not be much to fear from the present storms ; and after all, I am not without hope that they will be over-ruled to the ultimate benefit of the Society. To his daughters Maria and Priscilla. Four Swans, London, 29th of Eleventh Month, 1836. I went to Manchester on Seventh-day. I observed a considerable diminution in the number of Friends at the meeting on First-day morning, which, notwith- standing, was large. I should think that about a hundred attended the separate meeting. It is a most affecting division, and I am pleased to observe that it is really felt to be so by those who remain attached to the Society. There have been twenty-eight resignations of membership already, and there will probably be a larger number than that at the next Monthly Meeting. The letters of the resigning Friends are important documents, as expressing in nearly all of them that the writers are thoroughly opposed to the principles and practices of the Society of Friends. Isaac Crewdson declares his conviction that Quakerism is not Chris- tianity. Why he should have struggled so hard to remain in an anti-christian body, or why he should think there were no grounds of difference between us, I cannot tell ; but I feel that the letters are (if it were wanted) a complete justification of the proceedings of the Yearly Meeting's Committee and the Monthly Meeting. That the measures have been harsh or persecuting is not asserted in these letters, and I am persuaded, when they come to be looked at in a clearer atmosphere, the opposite will be apparent. WAS SEPARATION INEVITABLE ? 133 They have not determined on their course of pro- ceeding in regard to their own Society, but conchide to remain awhile longer on what they call neutral ground, under the assuming title of Evangelical Friends. The conviction expressed above by Sanuiel Tuke aS'to the conduct of the Committee is repeated in a subsequent letter written to a Friend, Fourth Month, 1837- If our Lancashire Committee have done wrong, let them suffer for it. It may not become me to say much on their behalf ; but I cannot tell what a Scriptural examination of the matters brought before us is, if the statement relative to The Beacon be not so. I believe that no other body in Christendom would have treated such a case with so much reference to Scripture as their standard. I know none that would not have brought their own creed to determine whether a mem- ber complained of was a true member or not. But I would willingly let judgment go by default against us, if that would satisfy, in any considerable degree, any tender minds who are hurt with us. It is the opinion of many at the present day that the separation might have been averted. The account we have just read affords no ground for this opinion ; neither do the statements of two other members of the Committee, Joseph John Gurney^ and Dr. Ash. The latter, it is true, regarded some acts of the Committee as tending to precipitate the separation (an opinion which does not appear to have been shared by any of his colleagues), but he was nevertheless thoroughly convinced that a seces- I See Memoirs of J. J. Gunny, by J. B. Braithwaite, 1854, Vol. II., pp. 62, 63. 134 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. sion was inevitable. Looking back on the events of this period he says : " To suppose that a number of men of any class or character whatever could meet together under such circumstances and for such a purpose as ours, wholly uninfluenced by prejudice or preconceived opinions, is, of course, utterly out of the question. I am, however, persuaded that we did meet (I believe every one of us) truly in the fear of the Lord, and that the predominant and pervading feeling among us was an honest desire to do right. Again, when I call to mind the wide diversity of our mental characters and habits, the con- siderable differences in our views of some parts of divine truth, the difficult and often painful position in which we found ourselves placed, I cannot but admire the large amount of patience and self-control, of con- descension and brotherly love, of uprightness and truthfulness, of candour and fairness, which was exhi- bited throughout our deliberations ; more, I am inclined to think, than has often been anywhere seen in the Christian Church under like circumstances, and such as would unquestionably have given to any candid spectator a highly favourable impression of the practical influence of Quakerism upon the character and conduct of its adherents. " As no material step was ever taken by the Com- mittee without the concurrence of all its members, I must, of course, be content to take my share of the responsibility of its acts, however much I may now be inclined to disapprove some of them. They no doubt tended to hasten on the secession which followed ; . although this must inevitably have taken place, sooner or later, whatever course the Committee might have pursued. " One of its acts well deserves to be remembered, because of the important principle which it involved. FEW DEFENDERS OF QUAKERISM. 135 When it was found necessary to examine and pass judgment upon the contents of The Beacon, the Com- mittee promptly and unanimously decided, notwith- standing some rather vehement pressure from without, to try them by the Scriptures alone, without i-eference to any of the Society's doctrinal standards of whatever kind."i After the separation had taken place, Samuel Tuke, in reply to John Wilkinson's Quakerism Examined, and other statements, published a pamphlet entitled, Plea on behalf of George Fox and the Early Friends. In this masterly treatise he stood almost alone as the public apologist of Quakerism. He adverts to this feature in a letter to Josiah Forster, Eighth Month 14th, 1838 : When I think how insufficiently the attacks upon our Society, or rather upon its principles, have been met, how far the truth proclaimed by the early Friends has been from being set forth and its standard unfolded to the world, I feel a mixture of surprise and regret which I cannot express. How few Friends have thought it worth while to make any searches into the wanderings of the Church of Christ, and so become imbued with the spirit of the times in which our Society arose ! But still there is a more lamentable reflection ; how few are imbued with the spirit of the early Friends, their realisation of the Divine Presence in the soul, and of its rule without a rival there. Here some of us know we are let down, and here lies, I believe, the secret of all our weakness. I A Retrospect of my Life, by Edward Ash, M.D., 1874, pp. 28, 29. XVI. LETTERS ARISING OUT OF THE BEACON CONTROVERSY. 1835—1839. THE Controversy often turned on the doctrine of Justification by Faith. Writing to Joseph John Gurney, Fifth Month, 1835, Samuel Tuke says : I take justification to be a state of acceptance with God. Then comes the question of how it is to be obtained ; which is, in fact, the point of dispute. It is asserted that justification is by faith alone, and that several passages in the Apostle Paul's writings fully support this assertion. I believe that faith, in these passages, implies such a full belief in God and in Christ as can only be had through the enlightening and enlivening power of the Holy Spirit, by which the eye is opened to see, and the mind enabled to embrace, the things which belong to peace. This faith is, therefore, the gift of God. And is not such a faith all that is wanted for acceptance, justifica- tion, reconciliation ? It includes repentance toward God for sin, and, to us who have the knowledge, the special act of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, faith in his blood as the accepted and only sacrifice for sins. It includes the acknowledgment of guilt under the sense of the righteousness of the law of God and the love, of that 136 JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 137 holy law. There is a new sight and new affection — therefore a new man ; and this is regeneration. Some years afterwards, writing to another friend, Samuel Tuke stated his views on this question at greater length. I have been at some pains to understand the history and opinions of the early Friends ; and I believe it to be incontrovertible that from the earliest times they held the universally fallen condition of man through sin, that he had no power to help or redeem himself, and that his pardon and restoration were wholly and freely of the mercy of God through Jesus Christ. They did not stumble at the passage, " Therefore being justified by ■faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ " ; neither did they stumble at the declaration of the Apostle James, " Ye see, then, how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only." I think it is one of the circumstances in their course which marks, as so many others do, the extraordinary spiritual sagacity with which they were endued, that they did not lay down the dogma of justiiication by faith alone, as ex- pressing the sum and substance of the Gospel, or as a fundamental article of faith. I cannot find that justification is always spoken of in the New Testament in a legal or forensic sense ; or that sanctification is always spoken of in the New Testament as that work which never precedes justification. Salvation must be by faith ; for v/ithout faith it is impossible to please God ; and under the Christian dispensation it is by faith in Christ, the one Mediator, and the only propitiation for sin ; but salvation is not uniformly spoken of in the New Testament as dependent upon faith alone. Take for example that striking passage, Titus iii. 4-7. The 138 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. whole work, I take it, is there included. The founda- tion of all is the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man appearing. It is not by any works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy He saved us, by the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost, which He shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour ; that, being justified by his grace (favour), we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life. Without taking the word grace as synonymous with spirit, the apostle, I think, does not here describe salvation as being entirely the result of an act of mental faith ; that such an act is implied is freely admitted ; but it is said to be by the washing and renewing, etc. Now is there no sanctification in this renewing of the Holy Ghost ? I well know what a stream of Protestant Reformers our friend has on his side — men whose praise is rightly in all the Churches ; but I cannot blind myself to the fact that among other encumbrances which hung about them, that of a portion of the. scholastic philosophy was not the least. They were not up to the simplicity, any more than the liberty of the truth as it is found in the New Testament ; and I think I see that, from our increased acquaintance with them, and our greater familiarity with the religious literature of what is called the evangelical school, we are more than in danger of somewhat retrograding from the true standard of simplicity and liberty in the New Testament. To Robert Howard.''- York, Eighth Month, 1836. I quite agree with thee in the position that in a really healthy state of the Christian Church there would be a wide door open for the various services of the I R.H. was one of those who left the Society ; he joined the " Brethren." THE CHURCH IN A HEALTHY CONDITION. 139 members ; in fact, that there would be amongst the members a true sympathy with the spiritual mind in each other, and that all the fruits which flowed from it would be acceptable. Whilst there would be no quenching of his Spirit, nor despising of prophecy, in however humble or unusual a form the gifts might appear, there would be a quick perception of individual deviations from a right spirit, and of those simu- lations which, to a greater or less extent, have been the usual accompaniments of a lively state of spiritual religion. There would be found checks wanted on the forwardness of the natural man, who would mix (and think to improve) things heavenly with things earthly. There would be fathers and mothers, not only to foster, but to check; and to many minds, in the early stage of religious experience, the latter is not less important than the former. To run to the armoury and seize a weapon for the war, is far more congenial to many youthful minds, than to bear the preparatory discipline which shall fit the body to the service, and quahfy it to bear with effect that weapon which their Great Captain may appoint them to wield. I cannot doubt that in such a state of things in a church, there would be little known of human formularies, little of theological systems and dogmas. The message of mercy to man, as revealed in the unsystematic page of divine revelation in Holy Scrip- ture, would be received, in all its glorious combination, without diminution and without division ; and the great end of hving would be to attain to and promote the Redeemer's Kingdom. This state of the church must be considered rather as a study than a portrait. Mixed, it must be admitted, has been the actual condition of the church in every age ; and that hving sympathy and single devotedness amongst the members generally has rarely, if ever, been 140 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. witnessed to the extent which I have described. I believe it has, in very few instances, been more fully realised than in the earliest association of the Society of Friends. Their union was truly a spiritual union. They had one great object for themselves and for the world, the knowledge of Christ savingly. They found that knowledge ; and in it they had the fellowship of living brethren together. One spirit animated them ; they sighed, they prayed, they wept, they rejoiced together. But they were still in the militant church ; they were still liable to fall by unwatchfulness, or to slide by degrees from the full liveliness of their state. There were many who joined them on imperfect or mixed grounds. The good seed fell among thorns, or on the stony ground, and endured but for a time ; and a new generation was immediately springing up, trained in the sentiments of their fathers, but to a great extent not coming up to their spirit in regard to re- ligion. And now there could hardly fail to arise more of sectarian attachment to the name, and practices, and professed doctrines of the body. Not that the life would be extinct, or that wise and good men qualified for service would not be found ; but the general character would be lowered, and there would not be that living, spiritual bond, to anything like the extent in which it had been known. There will be few fathers and mothers spiritually qualified to foster and to check ; both services will often be done rather with reference to the sectarian than the really Christian standard. Then come, after a time, disorders ; the young con- vinced minds seeking truth find but little judicious help ; and when it ceases to be liked, it ceases to be respected. Thus the young inquirer is offended ; the older Friend is grieved, yet is, perhaps, prepared to do httle more than insist on the point that George Fox and the THE PLEASANT PATH OF DUTY. i4r early Fi-iends were certainly right. The young inquirer runs hither and thither, and, though not getting riglil, does not, without some right ground, reject the counsel that has been given. There will always be many things to draw away from a purely constituted church in its best state. The corruptions of religion, which only exhibit what human nature tends to, prove the assertion ; but when a church, retaining a right profession and pure internal constitution loses much of its life, there will be a very great tendency among serious inquirers to go elsewhere, if more energy is to be found ; and the less pure church, in its altered arrangements, will have many attractions to the half-persuaded-to-be-Christian class, a class not small, it is to be feared, in all the churches of our land. To liis daughters Maria and Priscilla. York, 29th of Eleventh Month, 1837. I am convinced that the true comfort of man is in the simple path of duty, be it quiet, be it busy, be it prosperous, be it adverse. Most would assent to this, taking into view the future rewards of right doing ; but I mean as it regards the present, the actual state and feelings of the mind ; that it is in the wise and merciful economy of Divine Providence that under right cares, though often wearisome to the body and anxious to the mind, there is a real substratum of enjoyment, and if, as I am presuming, those cares are discharged in the fear of God, there will be through all the afflictions of this present time, a solid peace, a measure of that which the apostle, in his brief but comprehensive phrase, says " passeth all understanding." Much is said at present amongst us on the subject of prayer, and I cannot but hope we may be led to consider why it has been in any degree neglected amongst us. I believe there is great need for us to be 142 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. stirred up to a more lively consideration of the privilege and duty of spreading our case and cause before the Lord, and asking of Him those things which we stand in need of. And what is the impediment to our doing so ? It may have been in some instances from a mistaken view of our principles ; but I believe it has been far more from our not living in the spirit of prayer. Doubtless, before a consistent Christian life has been attained to, there may be a right preparation for prayer ; the heart awakened to mourn over its earthly-mindedness, and to feel in any measure the burden of sin, may find access to the throne of Grace for deliverance, for true conversion of heart, and the remission of sins. The Spirit, whose office it is to awaken, helps the infirmities of the poor penitent sinner, and raises, and unites in, intercessions, with groans which cannot be uttered. If the way of true prayer has in any degree been clogged by misappre- hensions relative to the influence of the Spirit, the way has also, I fear, been much perverted by not sufficiently recognizing that influence as the true preparation for every act of the service, and by introducing systematic methods which I believe sadly interrupt the free course of the Spirit. It is far moi-e important that the heart should really breathe towards God its inmost desires, than that words should be uttered ; and far more im- portant that the expressions at any time used, should really accord with the gracious feelings of the heart, than that they should include everything which it might be deemed that we ought to stand in need of. Never- theless, we may very rightly consider whether our minds are sufficiently awake to our mercies and our wants, and the natural dulness of our minds may be stimulated by these considerations and meditations, as well as by the devout reading of Holy Scripture. The early Friends did not by any means discourage SOUND PRINCIPLES OF THE EARLY FRIENDS. 143 the prayer of any one under the influence of Divine grace, and such they fully considered any penitent person to be ; but let not (they said) the prayer go be- yond the measure of the grace afforded ; or in other words, the true feeling of want. Again, they said that any person under the influence of the Spirit could not be otherwise than in the frequent practice of acts of prayer ; and there is ample ground to believe that they were, in the ti-uest sense of the word, a praying people. To Maria Hack} York, loth of Third Month, 1837. I would, in the first place, notice thy observation, that the evidence lately brought forward, relative to the early Friends, appears to place us in a new position. I cannot concur in this view of the matter ; as regards myself, I cannot say that any materially new evidence has been brought forward, and the consideration of it, in past times, has not shaken my confidence in the two following particulars : ist. — As to the sound Christian principles of the early Friends. 2nd. — As to the importance of those views by which they were dis- tinguished from other Christian professors in their day. At one period of my life I acknowledge that I dwelt a good deal upon some of the objections which are now urged against the early Friends, and I was not without some motives to find them fatally wrong ; but the more I investigated their writings, and studied their character, and the more I sought to be really guided in the way of truth, the more I became satisfied on these substantial points which I have stated above, and the more clearly I felt that the way of peace for I M. H. was the author of Winter Evenings and other delightful books for young persons, which had a wide circulation in the early part of the century. She resigned her membership in the Society of Friends about this time. 144 I'IFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. me was in their communion. I came to the conclusion that whatever imperfections had attended them, they had been, in the hands of Divine Providence, the honoured instruments of leading men to the considera- tion of very important featm-es in the Christian dis- pensation, which had been long buried in the church's apostacy, and of raising a standard of Christian practice much nearer at least to that of Christ himself than had been wont to be held up by the professors. If my communion with the Society of Friends, required me to subscribe to everything which has been written by early or later Friends, / would retire ; but I have yet to learn that any acknowledgment of this kind is necessary to my fellowship. No such inference, I am sure, can be fairly drawn from the recommendation of the perusal of the early Friends' writings. To a Friend. (About to resign his membership in the Society of Friends.) York, Fourth Month, 1837. In regard to baptism and the Supper, I am per- suaded that the Society has never believed that they were enjoined by Christ as standing ordinances in his church, and, therefore, we are not chargeable with shghting the commands of our Lord and Saviour, of which I do beUeve no people have ever been more tender than the Society of Friends has been, or suffered more for being so. I must deny altogether that we give an unscriptural or unhealthy place to the " Inward Light." Whatever may be the error of individuals (and where wilt thou find a church without erring members ?) I am sure that the Society holds no other view upon this subject than that which it believes Holy Scripture teaches, viz., that the Spirit of God does operate directly upon the THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST DWELLING IN MAN. 145 soul of man ; in the first place awakening, convicting, reproving, and, therefore, acting as a light in the heart, which, truly, men do well to mind ; and, subsequently, when the work of regeneration is effected through repentance and living faith in Christ, dwelling in man as an enlightener and counsellor, carrying on the work of sanctification. Surely it is not unscriptural or dero- gatory to any other doctrine, to speak of the Spirit of Christ in man; I mean here in the regenerated man ; and of such only is it that the Society has ever spoken as enjoying his indwelling presence ; and I acknow- ledge my conviction, that the doctrine ■which the Society substantially holds upon this subject is really a most important and most precious part of Gospel truth. The more immediate teaching of God in the church, seems to me to be the great peculiarity of the new covenant as is clearly laid down by the writer to the Hebrews. Think not that I forget or undervalue that clearer view of the doctrine of expiation which the new covenant affords us ; or that I am not aware that all the blessings of the Divine Presence have been the purchase of His blood who ascended up on high, who led captivity captive, and received gifts for men, even for the rebellious, that the Lord God might dwell among them. If thy mind be more awakened and aroused to the consideration of things which belong to thy peace, do not conclude hastily that all the views which have come before thee in connection with it are altogether correct. The circumstances under which such a state of mind is induced have often no small influence in the determination of many points ; and on no one part of thy letter do I feel more certain, than in regard to that which intimates that it is necessary to adopt other views than those entertained by the Society of Friends in order to walk more closely with God than thou hast hitherto done. Is there any hindrance 146 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. amongst us to thy entire dedication to God ? Is tliy access to Him closed by any human agency ? and mayst thou not amongst us love and believe in the Lord Jesus in sincerity ? At present the faults of thy own body are more conspicuous to thee than those of others ; but though it does not determine the question of truth or error, I must question whether there is really more occasion of stumbling amongst us, than among others. In regard to thy remarks about our worship, allow me to say that I think thou hast taken quite an erroneous view of the matter. Surely we have never maintained that our worship is essentially a worship without vocal utterance ; but only, that vocal utterance is not essential to worship ; and that no vocal utterance is acceptable but that which is prompted by that living power of God which worketh in us both to will and to do his own good pleasure. But is not silence before God a likely preliminary to the prayer and praise of the heart, whether vocal or not ? and though there may be much lifeless silence amongst us, oh who can measure or count the number of lifeless words which are uttered in other places ? No one that I know of ever attempted to convert the heathen by silence, though it might be more useful than some attempts which have been made. The early Friends were certainly great preachers, for the Head of the church knows what the people want ; and if those who are called were faithful, He would doubtless send forth messengers to supply them. To a Friend. (On the importance of not confounding the sources from which a knowledge of divine truth is obtained.) York, 1838. When the assertion is made that there is not a son or daughter of Adam who has not heard the Gospel as MISUSE OF THE WORD GOSPEL. 147 intelligibly as the angel proclaimed it to John, I must demur, and I acknowledge that I have never been able to find the least evidence that there was an universally enlarged effusion of the Spirit in connection with the ascension of Christ. Neither can I find any evidence in the New Testament of its being likely to be so, but much on the contrary which speaks of the special privilege of those who were brought to the knowledge of Christ in his outward appearance, and who received Him into their hearts by living faith. There is a sense in which I acknowledge it may be said, that the Gospel has been preached to every son and daughter of Adam, because any measure of divine light which can lead to God must be glad tidings ; but I do not think that it is ever so used in Scripture. Those Gentiles who had not the law, but who did the things contained in the law, are said to have been a law unto themselves, and to have shown the work of the law written in their hearts. These Gentiles might be said 'to have been true Jews ; and so those who now show the woi-k of Christianity written in their hearts, may be said to be Christians ; but neither the one nor the other are so spoken of in the Scriptures, and it seems to me an abandonment of a just distinction between one thing and another which our language affords us, to use the word Gospel in connection with the state of those who have not received the outward message. We do not dream of having those truths revealed to us specially, which it has pleased divine wisdom to give us through the Holy Scriptures. To a Friend. (On charity to those from whom we differ.) i8th of Ninth Month, 1839. There is a low, feeble spirit, which, under the guise of charity, would compromise truth ; but there is 148 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. also a harsh, though earnest spirit, which, under the guise of zeal for the truth, would narrow its bounds; circumscribe its operations, and which, in seeldng to pluck up the tares, would destroy much of the wheat also. These two states have ever been the Scylla and Charybdis of the church, and never has its course been more to be lamented than when it steered itself pro- fessedly by the point of strict unity. Thou wilt say there is a true line ; and I fully admit it, and that the Spirit of Christ leads into it. In that line is found his holy firmness with his condescending gentleness, his ardent zeal with his still more intense love ; but though we doubt not that a measure of Christ's Spirit is given to those who truly seek it, to enlighten and direct them, does not our observation of the history of good men, in past and present times, teach us how much need we have of caution, lest something of our own bias mislead us ? and never are we more in danger of being thrown off our guard than when we seem to have a plain and important good before us ; such, for instance, as the unity of the Church. The insidiousness of self cannot be too much borne in mind ; and if, in any degree, a false fear of hurting a brother has let down the cause of truth amongst us, let us remember that there is an opposite error which it is equally needful to avoid. I do not think there is weakness (except so far as it belongs to the frailty of man's condition) in the keeping in mind that we are very liable to have our own feelings mixed with those from a better source ; that we have the treasure of divine things in earthen vessels ; and that there are no cases in which we have more need to pause, than when we are ready to say, in regard of an honest-minded brother, " Master, forbid him, for he goeth not with us." XVII. LETTERS. 1836— 1840. WE go back to take up Samuel Tuke's general correspondence : To his daughters Maria and Priscilla. Eleventh Month, 1836. I suppose some of my fellow-travellers home would give you a nai-rative of our adventurous journeyings over the backbone of England (the Derbyshire Hills betwixt Glossop and Huddersfield), and all, to be sure, on a First-day morning ; having been unable to obtain horses the afternoon previous, on our reaching Glossop. We had no idea of the character of the stage, though the post-boy, to induce us to take four horses, said it was like going up a house-side. After travelling nearly four hours, we found we had only got, with our four horses, to the top of the hills, about fourteen miles, and had no chance of getting to Huddersfield, only six miles further. The poor girls inside the carriage were vastly quiet, and little E. looking as pale and modest as if her very name had been Patience — all before breakfast, you know ; so, coming to a village as we got into the valley, I ordered a stop at a small public-house, where we alighted, and soon had a good supply of tea and eatables. I inquired if there were any of our own sort there, and our good 149 ISO LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. landlady told us of an honest shoemaker living near, who was a Quaker, and that they had a chapel at Wooldale, not a mile off ; and I found, on referring to my list that the meeting began at eleven o'clock. Thither we posted after breakfast, and on entering the house (being nearly a quarter of an hour behind their country time), we found about seventy persons assembled. It was a meeting I had rather wished to see. When it was over, the Friends came to us and greeted us most kindly, taking us from one house to another, and seeming mightily pleased to see us. They took us a road back which gave us a sudden view of their beautiful dale. It was quite a panorama. They were greatly satisfied and amused with our exclamations of surprise and admiration. Altogether, their simple hospitality and kindness, the evident welcome which what they believed to be a Christian exercise on their behalf 1 had met with, left upon us a lively impression of affectionate interest, and we all agreed that there was something in old-fashioned, simple Quakerism which we must ever love. To his daughter Maria. York, 5th of Seventh Month, 1836. There can be, and there ought to be, no subject so interesting to us as our interest in eternity. The very word, rightly appreciated, swallows up everything which refers only to time, and asserts its claim, even in its minutest relations, to our paramount regard. We want to feel this more, to have the respective claims of earth and heaven, time and eternity, more clearly before us. It is very possible to have a sentimental perception of the beauty of the divine character of Jesus, and to present to the mind in the most lively way the tragedy of his sufferings and death, and yet not to be truly his I Refers, no doubt, to Samuel Tuke's ministry in the meeting. WHITEFIELD. 151 disciple. The. right appreciation of his character and his sufferings is, I beheve, only to be found in the humble path of dedication to Him ; and what is the way of dedication but that of yielding to the convictions of his Spirit ? I know too well that the way to have our faith weak is to be unfaithful, and I am sure that faithfulness to the convictions of his grace is the way to increase in faith, in knowledge, and, above all, in love. How soon the time will come when to know that we do belong to Christ will be worth iniinitely more than all the world ! I am pleased thou opened thy mind to me. I sincerely like my dear children to be open with me, and especially on the most important things, though I lament often my own inability to help you, and my defective example. To his son Henry. York, sth of First Month, 1837. I observe thou hast been reading Whitefield's Life. I glanced through it in London. I thought the editor tried to make him more of a system man than he really was. That which first filled his soul with love and hope was, if I rightly recollect the narrative, the view which . he was enabled to take in reading Scougal's work on Union with Christ ; and it is this great truth dis- played and urged home to the heart, which, whatever may be their accompanying mistakes, gives that charac- ter and effect to the writings of those who are called mystics, which neither all the philosophy of religion, nor all the ingenuity of systematic theology, has been able to gainsay. I esteem the devotedness and simplicity of Whitefield's character very highly indeed. He loved much, and the whole character of his Master seems to have been 152 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. presented to his lively mind in the most glowing colours. His judgment I am far from thinking equally conspicuous. To ^osiah Forster. York, loth of Twelfth Month, 1838. If you can get hold of people's hearts, you may do what you will with their heads. I am increasingly con- vinced that there are very few persons indeed who are governed by a strict intellectual investigation. In all the movements of life it is the affections which draw us, and this observation seems to me to have been largely illustrated in our late and present secession. Metaphysics reminds me that I have lately read the third volume of Coleridge's Literary Remains, which a friend sent to me. If it fall in thy way it may per- haps repay thy glancing through. I should say that Quakerism is really exalted in it as the true philosophy of man's connection with divine things ; but at the same time Quakerism, as such, is treated with very little respect. Much as Coleridge is admired, and venerated we might say, I do not feel that his judgment adds much to the testimony for truth, and if his moral power, using the term in its strictest application, had been equal to his intellectual, he would, I think, undoubtedly have been carried forward to practical Quakerism. His fundamental views appear to me to have been identical with Fox's and Barclay's. But in the moral consequences of their doctrines they are far more to be trusted than he is. To James Backhouse {then in South Africa). Seventh Month 14th, 1839. Thou wilt have heard, I doubt not, before this reaches thee, that we had a very comfortable Yearly Meeting. Not having been at the preceding one, the RAILWAY TRAFFIC ON SUNDAY. 153 contrast between the late one arid that of 1837 was very striking to me. I do not remember to have attended a Yearly Meeting in which there appeared to be a greater watchfulness maintained, or more of con- cern for the real welfare of the Society. It was evident that the bonds of fellowship had been drawn closer, and I do not know that a word of cavil or opposition was heard during the meeting. It was not, however, the absence of what is painful, but the presence of what is good, which was the chief cause of rejoicing. In the summer of 1839, at a meeting of the York and North Midland Railway Company, to con- sider the question of Sunday traffic, Samuel Tuke made a speech, in which he claimed for the nation, and for the employes of the Company, the benefit of the Sabbath, due allowance being made for "works of necessity and charity." That he attached no Judaical character to the observance of the day was well known, but whilst he admitted the full force of the language used by our Lord and the Apostle Paul, he thought the true use of the day of rest as a beneficent institution, both for man and beast, still remains obligatory on Christians. To Josiah Forster. York, 3rd of Fourth Month, 1840. I am glad that our dear Friends William Allen and Elizabeth Fry are banded together on this errand of Christian love.^ Very depressing it must be, as thou observes, to travel from day to day among a priest- ridden, and most probably also a lust-ridden, people. I To Holland, Belgium and Germany, to visit prisons and hold religious meetings. 154 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. It is an age of agitation, but there is very little indeed of that powerful sense of truth prevalent in men's minds which leads to the martyr struggles, once, and many times heretofore, made in behalf of the truth, and which produced such extraordinary effects, shaking the strongholds of error, and for a time seeming to- threaten, to no small extent, the very overthrow of Satan's kingdom. If such a man as he who, in his leather breeches, travelled the length and breadth of this island about 200 years ago, were to be raised up in Belgium, or in some other seat of darkness on the Continent (I mean a man endued with such a spirit), I should, spite of one's fears of what would become of such an one, have great anticipations of glorious results. Sometimes the simplicity, power and beauty of truth — of Christian truth, I mean — of religion as the tie which binds poor alienated man to his Creator by the bonds of faith and love, and to his fellow-man by the bonds of truth, justice, and mercy, does so forcibly impress my understanding, that it seems to me as if it must irre- sistibly make its way to men's minds, if conveyed there in the demonstration of the Spirit. I have not much expectation from the acquiring of the art of reading, as a means of dispelling error, in such countries as Belgium, where the books supplied to those who learn will be adapted to foster their superstition, their sensuality, or their folly ; still, I agree with' thee that it is a more favourable state than that of entire ignorance ; and the extensive circulation of the Scriptures may produce effects which such a means could not do, if the art of reading were not possessed. XVIII. LETTERS. 1841— 1846. To Josiah Forster. York, 8th of Second Month, 1841, LAUDISM is growing very fast in the Church. I behave it will bp rife, if not rampant, by and by, and that the Church of England will have a heavy shake. It is surprising what things we hear nowadays in society, and read in books and newspapers, from men who ten years ago would have repelled them with indignation. The question of Church imposition — yea or nay — has, I believe, to be tried, and in England too. Probably the men of whom I am speaking are not quite prepared for the utmost coercive measures ; but their pi-inciples lead to, and I do not think that anything but the want of power will prevent their resorting to, the utmost coercion — to persecution. "But one Church " ; all who do not acknowledge its dominant authority — schismatic, perverse, rebellious, disobedient children ! And this Church, the ally or head of the State ; ahd it is the duty of the State to punish disobedient, law- breaking, subjects. You cannot stop ; fines, imprison- ment, banishments, and I will not say what else, follow of course. We say the age is too enlightened for these things ; but is it the ignorant alone who have taken up these unchristian, these dark opinions ? And looking 156 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. at the persons who have embraced them, and the rapid increase of their numbers, are we warranted to say to what extent they may be permitted to go ? They may be said to constitute a moral pestilence, directed by a hand which brushes away all paltry barriers and preventions which man has raised, as a storm would do a spider's web. Man will have a religion. Tlie colour or dress may depend upon the taste of the day ; but the essential form of all false, religions is the same ; it is always cruel. Happy it is that moral as well as physical evils are under the control of an Omnipotent Being, who can say to them when they have accomplished the work to which they were sent, " Hitherto shalt thou go, and no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed." And as he who is the scourger is frequently the next victim of the scourge, so it may be that the system of church despotism in connection with the English Church may find its own fall hastened by the exertion of its power ; but there may be a fiery trial before this takes place. These are thoughts which have frequently of late time occurred to me ; but I had no intention of pouring them forth to thee. To the same. York, 22nd of Third Month, 1841. I think thou said I should find a treat in the volume of early Friends' letters, selected by our Friend Rawlinson -^ and truly I have not been disappointed. It is rich as a collection of historical notices, but richer still as an illustration of the deep Christian knowledge, wisdom, faith, and love, of the early Friends. There is an intellectual, as well as spiritual, vigour about many of the letters which is quite I Abraham Rawlinson Barclay, Letters, &c., of Early Friends, 1841. EDWARD BURROUGH. 157 refreshing. There were, indeed, giants in those days !. What a contrast are they to the present ! Edward Burrough's letter, 1662, is full of profound views in regard to the nature of church discipline,. and the relation of the various members to each other. Many, I dare say, will cavil at his assumption as a minister, an apostle of Christ, and consider the mutual honour of the members arising out of the variety of gifts — the subjection and liberty of which he speaks — as quite a visionary relation. But it is truth, a part of that truth which was revealed in that day by the same light which enabled those who received it to see, and nobly to maintain, true Christianity, in their testimony to spiritual worship, to the freedom and power of divine grace, ta universal peace, and to an entire simplicity. To his daughter Maria. Four Swans, London, 3rd of Tenth Month, 1841. After a safe and comfortable journey of rather more than ten hours I found myself at the end of the last stage, and before eight o'clock was seated quietly at my old quarters in Bishopsgate Street. I went this morning, as usual, to Westminster Meeting. I felt a greater freedom in speaking than — owing, I believe, to the want of more devotedness of heart — I have done for some time. What loss we sustain from our want of simplicity and singleness of purpose, of realizing the truth that Christ is all ! What tender love is that which, notwithstanding our haltings and backslidings, still follows us, and repays our cold-heartedness with its beams ! To Josiah Forster. York, nth of Fourth Month, 1843., I cannot avoid thinking there is a strong feeling 158 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. pervading the Society increasingly, that the great work •of the world's regeneration is to be effected by human planning and combination, and that methods which we cannot altogether approve as truly Christian, are allowable and necessary in these great plans of moral improvement — the end sanctifying the means. The distinction which is made in respect to these efforts and those of a decidedly religious kind, the one as requiring spiritual guidance, and the other as not requiring it, is, I think, not sound. May not each individual be privileged to know what is fit for him with reference to his spiritual health ; and is not the part we take in public affairs, and in association with others for good objects, subject to this direction and guidance ? I know thou wilt say, Yes, certainly. But is this doctrine so fully admitted amongst us as it once was ; and has not the success of Anti-slavery agitation, and what has been done on the temperance and corn-law subjects, tended to raise a contrary feeling ? To the same. York, 4th of First Month, 1844. So our good friend William Allen's sun has at length set, doubtless in peace, and, I think we may say, in brightness. It is no mean praise of anyone to say, " He hath done what he could " ; and this may be said, I apprehend, of few more justly than of our departed friend. Nor were his means small ; his like is not left amongst us. To the same. York, 10th of Seventh Month, 1844. The difficulty is very great of carrying on the Annual Monitor with satisfaction to oneself. There is such a disposition to urge the insertion of what can merely be interesting to the relatives and friends of the DEATH-BED NARRATIVES. 159 deceased ; a mere sweetish water-gruel kind of article and without the nutriment which that wholesome food would contain. In a letter to another friend, Samuel Tuke says : I feel increasingly jealous of these death-bed narra- tives, the story of affectionate, and to the parties, affecting interviews, in which many fears and some good hopes and resigned feelings are expressed, but without any pointed instruction, or, to the reader, decided evidences of the actual state. It tends to a poor estimate of Christian attainments ; and I dread anything which has a tendency to make the getting to heaven so much a death-bed affair through the adminis- tration of a few comfortable promises. Thou knowest I would not put any limitation to the freedom of divine mercy at the latest moment ; and the record of such cases, well-defined, may be quite desirable ; but we are getting, I think, to place too much value upon whatever passes in the sick-room, as a means of general instruc- tion, or rather, I think, as a means of sentimental emotion. Very precious, indeed, to the immediate parties, is every word which passes on such occasions, both teaching and touching it may be ; but I really do not think that the public are benefited by such narra- tives. Again, in the preface to the Annual Monitor for 1843: If the life have not borne evidence of the re- newed man, or there has not been that godly sorrow which worketh repentance not to be repented of, there is, we apprehend, little dependence to be placed, either on the belief of the doctrine of Christ's sacrifice, or on any peace, quiet, or resignation, which any may have experienced in the prospect of death. i6o LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. To his daughter Maria. Torquay, sth of Eighth Month, 1844. I reached this place about eight o'clock last even- ing. My brother met me at the inn where the coach stopped, and I found a very kind reception at Wood- side. I enjoyed the country exceedingly in my ride from Derby to Exeter. I don't think it is right to say that you cannot see the beauty of the country in travelling by railway. It is true you cannot stop to delectate upon particular scenes ; but the more distant landscape moves from you with only a stately speed. I dwelt for a long time upon the Malvern Hills, and other ranges, as well as on rich plains and waters which passed in succession, forming beautiful panoramas nearly all the way from Birmingham to Exeter, and particularly to Bristol. The air, too, was delightful and balmy. I did not, however, live only upon the scenery ; I read a good deal in the history of Greece, and in a new book which I received a few days ago from America, Historical Memorials of the Society of Friends, by William Hodgson, jun. The matter is not, of course, new to me ; but almost every new arrangement of old matter presents some fresh views ; and the matter of our history willwell bear various presentations. There is a pretty long chapter on the history of the early settle- ment of Friends in Massachusetts Bay, and their treat- ment by those who had fled from persecution in England. I think I never felt quite so much disgust at the conduct of those pilgrim fathers, as in reading this condensed narrative of the hoiTible cruelties which the church and state of this, in its own esteem, par excellence, Christian colony, perpetrated upon the poor Quakers. These works of men appeared almost more odious to me in contrast with the beauties of creation and the genial common air which I was enjoying. THE GREAT STRUGGLE. i6i To the same. Sunderland (Cresswell), nth of First Month, 1846 I am, on the whole, rather encouraged than other- wise by what James has seen of the state of the Society of Friends in America. Some things are indeed trying enough, but I gather that there are many, even in the more newly settled parts, who are really right-minded and zealous for the truth ; upholding in word, and illustrating in their lives, pure Christian doctrine, and bearing in simplicity a testimony against the misrules and corruptions which are so prevalent in the profess- ing Church of Christ. Wherever good is, there will evil be found opposing it. The great struggle is not ended which has been going on these well-nigh six thousand years, between the true seed and the serpent ; and one of his most successful stratagems has ever been to use good things for bad ends. And if he has largely used and tortured the Scriptures to his purpose, we need not be surprised that he has done so with other writings ; but I cannot conclude, therefore, that it would be well if all the latter were destroyed. He could supply the congenial soil of man's heart with plants in abundance to bear deadly fruit. I would not be sorry if some of our old contro- versial works had, when they had served their day, been buried with their authors, as the warlike implements of heroes were wont to be ; but speaking of the wiitings of the early Friends generally, and especially their memoirs, I believe they have not yet finished their service, and will long form an important part of the history of the Lord's dealings with mankind, in order to bring them under his perfect reign. Rightly used, too, I believe those writings are valuable waymarks and checks against that sliding back to which we are so prone. One must acknowledge that the histoiy of the i62 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. church has been too much Hke that of the rolling of the stone up the mountain, often sticking fast at the point to which extraordinary efforts had urged it, and, perhaps, still oftener, receding from the point attained. Yet the former is a better starting point than the latter, when a renewed energy is found to put the shoulder to the work ; and so, lamentable as it is to see men con- tent to lie down by the deeds of their fathers without seeking for their living energy, I think it would be much to be regretted if their staves, fixed deep in the hill, were pulled up and thrown away. XIX. THE RETREAT— EDUCATION. 1840— 1846. IN 1840 Samuel Tuke edited a work on Insane Asylums by Dr. Jacobi/ son of the philosopher of that name, and brother-in-law of Perthes. Dr. Jacobi had visited him several years before ; and a friendship sprang up between them, based on the benevolence of character and interest in insanity common to both. In the introduction, Samuel Tuke draws a picture of what the director of an Asylum ought to be: " In the selection of such an officer," he observes, " the qualifications for moral management, amongst which I would specify a ready sympathy with man, and a habit of conscientious control of the selfish feelings and the passions, ought ever to be sought as carefully as medical skill. If a moral manager and religious instructor be chosen, he should be one who knows experimentally the religion of the heart ; who can condescend to the weak and the ignorant, and who, I On the Construction and Management of Hospitals for the Insane : with a particular notice of the Institntion at Siegbnrg. Translated by John Kitching. With introductory observations, by Samuel Tuke. Jacobi translated S. T.'s work on the Retreat into German. 163 i64 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. in the best sense of the phrase, can become all things to all men. I have observed that the most successful managers of the insane have been those who were the most humble and unselfish ; and it is only persons of this class who will ever effectually supply their intel- lectual and religious wants. A person of an opposite description, however talented, or however conversant with the philosophy of the mind, or the doctrines of religion, can never exercise efficiently this divine art of healing." In 1842 the intelligent German traveller, J. G. Kohl, visited York. " Here," he says " I became acquainted with many highly respectable Quakers, who introduced me to their celebrated Asylum for the Insane, which is tenderly and appropriately denominated the Retreat. It is certainly one of the most per- fect and admirable institutions in the world ; and has served as an invaluable model in the reform of other English mad-houses. It lies outside the town, surrounded by its beautiful gardens. Its internal arrangements are everywhere characterized by the most admirable order and reiinement. The whole system of treatment pursued is one of invariable mild- ness and benevolence, founded on the principle of kindness as the only rational mode of influencing the insane. The diet observed is that common among all the middle classes of England ; and this more nourishing and agreeable regimen is found far more wholesome for the patients than the meagre and scanty allowance customary in most mad-houses."^ To a Friend who visited him about this time Samuel Tuke related how William Alderson (known I Travels in Ireland, Scotland and England, 1844. PLAN FOR THE HANWELL ASYLUM. 165 to many Friends as the aixhitect of Stoke Newington Meeting House) came to York some years before to ask his advice. He was competing for the Hanwell Lunatic Asylum, the first of the modern county estabhshments of that kind, and brought the plans which he had prepared, in order to have the benefit of Samuel Tuke's revision. S. T. freely communi- cated his experience of what such buildings ought to be for the successful treatment of the inmates. As William Alderson listened he saw the superiority of these arrangements to anything which he had himself devised, and with the impetuosity that marked his character, " tore up his plans," said S. T., " in my presence, and worked out the details as I had suggested into a wholly fresh design." The result was, that Alderson's plan won the prize in an open competition, and that the Hanwell Asylum, constructed in conformity with it, has been the model ever since for other institutions of a similar kind. One of the objects nearest to Samuel Tuke's heart was the promotion of education, not in the narrow sense of the acquirement of knowledge or even the development of the understanding, but in the broad meaning of the term, the training of the heart and mind for all the duties of life, and for fitness to enter into eternity. Samuel Tuke was a hearty supporter of the British and Foreign School Society, advocating its principles and adaptation to the country at large. i66 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. and, so long as he was able, giving constant atten- dance and oversight to the schools of that Society in his own city. A school for poor girls, in premises immediately adjoining the house, was entirely sup- ported by him, and its direction and oversight was a constant source of interest and occupation to his daughters. It was, however, to the improvement and pro- gress of education in his own Society that he directed his chief attention. He shared largely in the founda- tion of the Quarterly Meeting School for Boys, which was opened at York in 1829,1 and in that for Girls, commenced in 1831. He had long been on the Committee of Management of Ackworth School ; and in his connection with this institution he was one of the founders of the Friends' Educational Society. " It was," says John S. Rowntree,^ " at the gather- ing of this association, held at the times of the Ackworth General Meetings during the forties, that Samuel Tuke, its president, delivered his luminous exposition of the philosophy of education.^ These expositions were largely deduced from the facts elicited by his own 1 The first superintendent was John Ford. J. F. had been an assistant master in the school at Rochester, where Samuel Tuke's son Henry was a pupil, and it was through this connection that he became known to S.T., and was appointed to the position he so honourably filled for many years. "Amongst my choicest out- ward blessings," he once said, " I number that of having such a friend as Samuel Tuke." 2 Friends' Quarterly Examiner, Fourth Month, 1895. 3 Five papers on the Past Proceedings and Experience of the Society of Friends in connection with the Education of Youth, 1843. PARENTS THE CHIEF EDUCATORS. 167 historical researches, and now, after the lapse of many- years, remain eloquent reminders that man cannot be put into an educational lathe to be turned out like a piece of furniture ; that whilst schools have their service of exceeding value, and whilst teachers' labour is one of the noblest of professions, yet to parents is given, in the divine economy, an influence which cannot be delegated to anyone. The historical facts are of singular interest and significance ; the philosophical reflections display an intimate knowledge of the human heart, and are expressed in nervous English." A portion of the concluding paragraphs of Samuel Tuke's exposition is subjoined : " The judgment now appears pretty much fixed in the Society, that the boarding-school system conducted as ours now is has on the whole a decided advantage over that of village or town day-schools. But the boarding-school is to be considered as the ally of, not the substitute for, parental education. We believe, indeed, that this idea needs to be more fully received, and that parents need to feel still more than they do that they are the chief educators of their children, and that it is but a small portion of that great work which can be devolved upon the masters and mistresses of our schools. " The charge of instructors is, indeed, a very weighty one. The years which are spent at school include one of the most important periods of life ; body and mind are expanding, the will strengthens, the passions unfold, the judgment is still weak. The least part of education at this period, important as it is, is the mere com- munication of knowledge. The formation of right habits, intellectual and moral, the fixing in the mind of Christian principles of action and the subjection of them to the will, are of infinitely more importance to i68 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the welfare, we might say to the greatness, of the future man, than the largest accumulations of art and science. Well may we inquire, Who is sufficient for these things ? And we are bound to answer, that with man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible ; and the meek and humble follower of the Saviour in this noble calling will not want a portion of that Heavenly wisdom, which, though in its operations it be often less striking to the outward eye than that which is merely human, works in harmony with Divine grace, and has a power in it which is seen in its ultimate effects. Faith, hope, love, must be the sustaining watchwords of the Christian instructor. " To recur, however, to the parent : We believe that the character of the future man is often laid in very early life. Education begins in the cradle, and every action and circumstance which occurs in the presence of the child, has a share of influence on his future character. The gentle restraints by which the mother controls the little obstreperous infant — her sweet smiles of love, her reproving eye — induce habits, thoughts, feelings, in the little pupil, and are the earliest, and perhaps among the most precious, lessons of our lives ; and they who think, or act as if they thought, that infancy has only to be fed and to be pleased, and that it is no time for moral training, commit an error which perhaps no future labour may be able to remedy. Not less important is the work of training in the subsequent stages of childhood. The opening mind is very sensible of impressions from without, and is the subject of strong internal tendencies within. The germs of all that constitute man are shooting forth. If the evil passions are not restrained, they will gather strength with the years of the child. Much more, however, is to be done by example, and by a steady gentle rule in regard to its conduct, than by didactic lessons. Above PARENTAL INSTRUCTION. 169 all is it important to cherish that tender fear of offending its Heavenly Father, which is often found to prevail in the very early periods of life, and which is greatly en- couraged by instruction in divine things, and by the example of those who are walking in the fear of God. On the other hand, the early touches of divine grace are liable to be dispelled by a contrary conduct ; the child's mind may be discouraged and hardened ; and •thus, it m^y be said, the way of the Lord, in that rectification of the heart which is alone of Him, is obstructed or prevented. "The work of education is undoubtedly very exten- sive, and includes, in its perfect exhibition, arts which all do not possess ; but really Christian parents, sensible of the responsibility of the trust reposed in them, alive to the influence of surrounding circumstances upon the minds of their children, aware of the inward motions of sin which are ever springing up, and seeking for divine help from day to clay to curb and repress them, have the power to exercise the most important part of the great art of framing an immortal being. They cannot be ignorant, from their own experience, of the divine ways ; they have in their hands the Holy Scriptures, in which the hatefulness of sin in the Divine sight, and the true remedies for all the evils of our fallen nature, are clearly set forth ; these, especially in the history of the lowly Jesus, and in the message of mei-cy to man through Him, are " milk for the babes," as well as *' meat for those of riper years." There are represented the best precepts of human action ; there is exhibited the only perfect example of godlikeness in the human form ; and there are to be found the gracious promises of Christ's spiritual presence as the observer of the heart, the repi'over for sin, and the sympathising helper of his children. These things carefully and freely im- pressed upon the youthful mind, the firm, steady, but 170 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. gentle repression of evil action, the example of a truly Christian walk, the prayers of a fervent spirit, con- stitute the means by which, under the divine blessing, the great work of right education is to be mainly carried on ; and in this work we believe they will have the largest measure of success who, however small may be their natural talents, or their attainments, know most of the subjections of self to the divine law, and in whose hearts the love of God in Jesus Christ is most abun- dantly shed abroad. Yet we fear there is a great tendency, in the present day, to a more superficial system, to methods which lie much on the surface, but which do little to invigorate the understanding and inure it to habits of patient labour, or really to rectify the will by the establishment of new principle^ of action in the heart.'' In 1846 Samuel Tuke, in company with Joseph Rowntree, visited Ireland to inspect the labour school at Brookfield, near Moira, founded for children of the descendants of Friends. To his daughter Maria. Dublin, 26th of Fourth Month, 1846. John Richardson took us in his carriage on Second- day to Brookfield, the genuine specimen of a labour school, and, I should think, one of the very best in Ireland. It is really alive. There is a middle-aged man and his wife, both of whom had spent a good deal of their life in the army, and both had been brought under the power of Divine Grace, and led heartily to join our Society. They are clever people, thoroughly "natureful" (if thou knows that word), and ruling the whole house with energy and kindness. They have a son and daughter, who are teachers of the school, and they have no servant of any kind in the establishment, BROOKFIELD LABOUR SCHOOL. 171 except a ploughman, who does the roughest work in their farm, consisting of about sixty acres. There are about fifty children, boys and girls, some of them full sixteen years of age, and many of them very fine specimens of the human family. Labour may be said to be primary, but the school is not forgotten ; and we found many fair readers, and a tolerable proficiency in writing and common arithmetic. Most of them have been brought up under very unfavourable circum- stances, and in extreme poverty. The removal to the school is, therefore, a decided advance in their condi- tion. They are much better fed and clothed and lodged, than they have been wont to be ; the labour is not felt to be either heavy or degrading. The master and his wife are one with the boys and girls in their respective labours ; it is, indeed, the children working with their father and mother. In a letter written shortly afterwards to John Hipsley, he adds : The living is exceedingly simple ; potatoes, with a good quantity of cold butter, was the dinner the day we were there. I must say I never saw a healthier- looking set of children, and I think they may be said to be also happy-looking. The salaries of the whole staff of officers are fifty-five pounds. This low rate is not, if it were desirable, likely to be repeated ; and it is very doubtful whether anyone would be found to make the farm as profitable as it is made under William Shannon's management. XX. THE FINE ARTS. IN the autumn of 1844 Samuel Tuke sent to the Friend, a monthly magazine, several papers on the influence of the Fine Arts.^ " Much pains," he observes, "have been taken of late to cultivate a taste for the Fine Arts among the English people. It is said that their cultivation indicates and promotes civilization and mental refinement, and we are upbraided with being inferior to our neighbours, the French and the Italians, in taste for the Fine or Polite Arts. Our popular periodicals have lent their aid to encourage this taste. The Penny Magazine has done its part among its humble readers. We have an Art-Union in which many of the middle and higher classes are engaged. The Government has extended its paternal patronage, at considerable cost, to the Schools of Design ; and Parliament has talked largely of the bene- tits to be derived to the people by the encouragement of Hullah's singing classes. All these things are not merely signs of the times, but efforts towards an end." The question which Samuel Tuke proposed to consider was : Is it desirable to promote a taste for the Fine Arts among the people as a means of moral refinement and of true civilization ? I Ninth Month, 1844, to First Month, 1845. J 72 CHRISTIANITY THE TRUE CIVILIZER. 173. " Beauty," he says, "is the object of all the Fine Arts. All the practical arts of life are the illustrations of science, and the end of science is instruction and utility.; but the end of the Fine Arts is, strictly speaking, pleasure. Not that the two classes of art are to be considered as entirely distinct, since the per- ception of beauty and the corresponding sensations of pleasure are happily blended with the inventions of art. and the discoveries of science, as well as with all the duties which belong to man's social relations.'' The conclusion at which he arrives is that we cannot look to the Fine Arts as an effectual means of moral refinement and true civilization : it is Chris- tianity alone that can bring forth these good fruits. " Christianity," he says, "contemplates the elevation , refinement and perfection of man, singly and socially,, by the infusion of new moral principles into his mind. It assures him of the divine love to him and calls, in return, for his : it sets before him, in the person of the lowly Jesus, all which can be seen of the divine in the human form, and calls upon him to be like-minded with his Lord and Saviour. Raised to the love and contem- plation of the eternally beautiful, and occupied in endeavouring to fulfil the law of love towards his fellow-men, the Christian has an active, practical course of usefulness before him, and cannot need the offices of the Fine Arts to elevate, refine, and truly civilize him." For a confirmation of these opinions, he invokes the testimony of experience : " History tells us that moral evils have been rampant where the Fine Arts have been largely cultivated ; and it is natural that it should be so, for they do but minister to the sensuous in man, from which so many of our moral evils flow ; and if, which is by no means proved,. 174 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. ■they draw the mind from more gross, sensual indul- gences, they have no power or influence in restraining ■selfishness, or raising man to the love of his Creator and fellow- creatures. Indeed, we believe, there is in the devotion to these more refined pleasures a species •of idolatry, or at least of infidelity, which excludes, as effectually as the grosser indulgences, the truly regenerating power of Christianity. "The two nations by whom the Fine Arts have been the most successfully cultivated, were the Ancient Greeks, and the Italians of the Renaissance. In the latter period there was no incongruity between the grossest sensuality and impiety, and the love and admiration of the beautiful in nature as presented by the Fine Arts. They could, as in Greece, domicile, grow and delight in the midst of the foulest vices. Licentious and profligate popes patronised those extra- ordinary efforts of the pencil by which the events of Sacred Story were transferred pictorially to the walls of the great temple of Rome or of the Vatican. From the revival of literature in Europe, Italy may be said to have been the seat of the Arts, and still many of the works of the most inimitable masters are to be found in her beautiful but unhappy country. Alas for her civiliza- tion ! Where is life and property most secure ? where does man most venerate moral beauty ? where are the holy ties of humanity most sacred ? where is the physical condition of man most improved ? With sighs we turn away from the Italian shores, and wander rather in the inhospitable climes of Norway, Finland or Iceland. There, without the refinement of the Arts, is to be found more of true civilization than aniidst all the embellish- ments which the queen of cities, upon the renowned hills, with her dependent provinces can boast.'' A similar argument is supplied from the moral state of the Primitive Christians, and amongst the THE FINE ARTS AND WORSHIP. 175 early Quakers, in neither of whom did the Fine Arts find any sustenance. " Yet," he exclaims, " what moral beauty reigned in those undecorated homes, where parents and children were bound together by the strongest ties of domestic affection, yet were ready to have them severed at any moment rather than violate their consciences as good soldiers of Christ. They found at duty's call more joy and peace in the filthiest dungeon than in the sweet cleanliness of the loveliest home ; theirs was a genuine perception of and reverence for the majesty and beauty ■of truth, that divine idealism which alone truly elevates man and feeds and nourishes society in whatever is worthy of the name of civilization among a Christian people." In the course of this inquiry Samuel Tuke considers the relation of the Fine Arts to worship. " Christ taught his disciples that as God is a spirit, his worship must be in spirit and in truth. His temple was to be the hearts of his living members, and they, through their Lord and High Priest, had immediate access to their Heavenly Father. In the teachings of the Saviour, there was much to show that grace hath use of nature ; the dressing of the lily and the provision for the sparrow supply beautiful lessons on the universal providence of the Creator, and the trust which his superior creature man might repose in Him. No idea, however, appears to have entered the minds of the early disciples that they were to set lilies and sparrows before them, artificially, to stimulate their trust and confidence ; and it is well known that the absence of all art in their worship was one of the prominent occasions of that contempt which their heathen neigh- bours, those who were considered the wisest and most 176 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. enlightened, threw upon them. They had no priests, no secret mysteries, no altars, nothing which worked upon the senses, — those only channels to the heart which the heathen appeared to know. . . . We shall do well here to observe that the class of persons who accepted the truth of Christianity were, to a large extent, that very class on behalf of whose ignorance and dullness the necessity of sensible objects, artificial representations in the service of religion, has been so strongly pleaded. " History abundantly shows that as that living faith which is the life-blood of true religion declined, so did men seek by dead forms, pageantries, and other varieties of human art, to stir up something that was like the living power that had been more or less lost. This practice of imitations will be found running through all the history of the Church's depravation. Art raised up feelings in men's minds which were the imita- tions of those holy aspirations that came from God and breathed towards Him. The Gospel in its simplicity had been preached to the poor, and had wrought its miracles ; it had by the accom- panying power of Divine Grace awakened men's souls, opened blind eyes, and the ear deaf to the sweetness of truth was made to understand the words of eternal hfe. The changes were inward, but the effects were seen outwardly ; and here was the door open for human art to be exercised, and, like the Egyptian sorcerers of old, it did somewhat 'likewise by its enchant- ments' We cannot, I believe, have too much impressed upon our minds that all the ingenious arts by which it has been attempted to quicken dormant souls to the sense of heavenly things are but so many counterfeits of truth and seals upon error, by which men are prevented from seeking after and finding the true wisdom and riches." THE CHRISTIAN AND CREATION. 177 The conclusion to which Samuel Tuke finds himself drawn by this chain of reasoning is : "That there is no essential connection between the love of moral excellence (the highest beauty) and the love of the beautiful as represented by Art ; in other words that there is no natural unity between the ideal- ism which is the soul of Art, and that sense of truth, justice and mercy which is the foundation of morals and the great element of all true civihzation." The papers provoked a number of replies, in which his attitude towards Art, was, he thought, somewhat misunderstood. In allusion to these strictures he says : " I do not, of course, mean that the useful and pleasant art of drawing has not been taught, that poetry has not been read, that the ears have been shut to the sweet music of nature. No one enjoys, I believe, more fully than the Christian the loveliness with which his Lord has clothed the Creation, or the sweet sounds and grateful emotions with which his ear is pleased and his heart is cheered in his earthly travel. He may not tarry so long as some do in the mere enjoyment of these things. Engaged in the serious purposes of life, he takes the sweets as refec- tions provided for him in his journey, not as the things in which he is to rest or long to delectate. He turns indeed almost intuitively from the beautiful and pleasant in the gifts to the supreme loveliness of the Giver, and is stimulated onward in labours of love and in the fight of faith." " In this connection," writes Samuel Tuke's grandson, Henry Tuke Mennell, "it would be a great mistake to suppose that there was anything 178 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. narrow or puritanical in the home life at York. To those privileged to know it, it presented the ideal of a cultured Christian household. Several of Samuel Tuke's children, notably Henry, Gulielma, and Esther, possessed artistic talents of no mean order, which they cultivated with the entire approval of their father. The range of reading and literary interest was wide and catholic. Natural History pursuits were ardently followed by his sons James and William ; and the true Yorkshire love for horses and horsemanship was liberally encouraged. The delightful garden at Lawrence Street bespoke at every turn a master who loved it, and who possessed, not only an eye for all that was beauti- ful in its arrangement, but the directing skill to carry it out. Amongst the few relaxations which Samuel Tuke allowed himself, may be mentioned, forestry, tree-planting, and experiments in agricul- ture and the improvement of land. These he was able to enjoy at his two farms near York, Roans and Warthill, as well as in his garden at home. But over all there was the pervading sense, evident to all who entered its portals, that the kingdom and rule of righteousness was above all things sought after in that house, leading to no sour asceticism, but in the widest sense fulfill- ing the declaration, 'Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.' " XXI. IRELAND. 1846, 1847. IN the latter part of Samuel Tuke's life his thoughts were much engrossed and his spirit burdened with the wrongs and sufferings of the Irish people. In a letter to his daughter Maria, 5th of Seventh Month, 1836, he writes : Henry says he thinks a tour in Ireland would do his sister Maria good, and he promises that he can secure thee, and me too if I would go with you, hospit- able welcome and entertainment in almost all parts of Ireland. I do not think we shall try this at present, though I should like very well to see a little, or a good deal, more of Ireland than I have yet done ; not so much to see its green fields and its lakes and rivers and mountains, as to become bettei" acquainted with its inhabitants, and to understand better the admeasure- ment of their wrongs and the means of their redress. This is, perhaps, a quixotic notion, seeing I could probably do nothing to help the poor Irish, and there are so many things still nearer home which need to be rectified — and even at home — in our very nearest home — ourselves — myself. Ten years afterwards Samuel Tuke made the tour in the North of Ireland spoken of in chapter i8o LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. xix. The state of famine consequent on the failure of the potato crop of 1845 had already commenced ; it was much less severe in the eastern parts of Ulster, which S. T. visited, than in many other districts. In the letter to his daughter quoted from above, he thus remarks on the condition of the country : From Brookfield we went, partly by railroad and partly by coach, to lodge at the house of a Friend, Jonathan Pike, at Beechgrove, belonging to Grange Meeting. It was here that Isaac Stephenson died. Joseph Rowntree was, of course, interested in the place, and was well acquainted with the family. We visited the grave of the good man (J.R's. father-in-law) in the morning on our way to Armagh, and hoped to have travelled to Dublin during the night, but could not get further than Newry. This gave us an oppor- tunity of seeing the country, which is quite interesting, much varied by hill and dale, and spotted with the white cottages of the peasantry. These have at a distance a lively aspect ; but on approach, the filth around them, and the miserable appearance of the interior, contrast unfavourably with the whitened out- sides. Here and there we saw pleasing exceptions to the general character of these dwellings. The miserably destitute state of some people we have seen in the towns even of the North is most affecting, children and even older persons all but naked forms, with haggard, sunken eyes, and skins that spoke of want and disease. Such human creatures are, I hope, nowhere to be found but in Ireland. And then, contrasting their state with that of others around them, and of ourselves in the midst of them, supplied pro- fusely with every needful want, the words often pressed SYMPATHY WITH THE IRISH PEOPLE. i8i themselves upon me, " If thou seest thy brother have need, and shuttest up thy bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in thee ? " Third-day. — We have now seen the Yearly Meet- ing, and met many kind friends, old York scholars and others among the rest, friends of dear Henry's, who inquired with much warmth after him. I lodged at Joseph Bewley's, where there is a pleasant party. It is well known what efforts Friends in England and Ireland made to alleviate the pressure of want and disease in the famine-stricken districts. These efforts had Samuel Tuke's warmest sympathy and support. The reports sent from the scenes of suffer- ing were widely distributed by him, either privately, or embodied in letters to the editors of country papers, creating a deep sensation, and largely aiding in promoting the stream of contributions which so liberally flowed into the relief fund. What is called the " Irish Question " was with him no new one. For long his attention had been directed to the condition of Ireland, and his sympathies drawn forth for her degraded and suffering peasantry. Fifteen years before this period, when writing upon Ander- son's Annals of the Native Irish, a favourite book with him, he observes : Whilst rivers of blood and millions of treasure have been sacrificed under pretence of supporting the glory or extending the dominion of our Empire, we have, under the guidance of selfishness and tyranny, neglected to improve the finest portion of our territory, and con- verted that possession into a positive evil, which, under a wiser administration, would have been infinitely more i82 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. beneficial in the increase of our wealth, our happiness, and our greatness, than all our colonies, East and West Indian, and American. We have often heard the question started in con- versation, why is Ireland so different from England, and such a plague to it ? and how are its evils to be cured, and we relieved from the annoyances and terrors which it is perpetually causing to us ? Many con- jectures have been hazarded in regard to each of these questions. We have heard the answer to the first not unfrequently amount to this, that the Irish were an idle, revengeful, intractable people, under the influence of a wicked priesthood. It has been shrewdly suggested, that there seemed to be a sort of judicial curse hung about them (perhaps for not embracing Protestantism), but whatever was the cause, their state was beyond the reach of cure, unless it should please Providence to submerge the whole island for half an hour beneath the green waves which wash its shore ! Strange as these things may appear in writing, they are no more than we have heard fully expressed, and we have often seen similar views not obscurely floating in the thoughts of men esteemed intelligent, when conversing on the sub- ject of Ireland. Nay, we firmly believe that many a statesman, on whose decisions the destinies of Ireland have in times past rested, bewildered in the labyrinth of a cruel and crooked policy, has scarcely had more distinct views of the cause and nature and cure of Irish evils, than are contained in the foregoing state- ment. "When therefore," say the editors of Samuel Tuke's Memoirs, " the fearful famine of 1845-7 arose, which brought to England a wail of distress never to be effaced from the recollections of this genera- tion, and forced upon the country the necessity of THE REAL CAUSE OF IRELAND'S MISERY. 183 adopting measures for its amelioration, Samuel Tuke's mind was prepared for the advocacy of those views regarding the deep-seated causes of the misery which, amidst the mists and controversies of that time, became ultimately the settled conviction of all thinking men. Thus, whilst ' over -population,' 'the Celtic origin,' 'innate idleness,' 'the Roman Catholic religion,' and many other causes were assigned, he clearly pointed out to his friends, that however mysterious the immediate cause of the aggravated distress (the failure of the potato crop) might be, the real cause of the chronic misery of the people must be traced to the unhealthy and false condition of the land-holding system of Ireland, and to the nominal ownership of land, which the then existing laws sanctioned and upheld." In 1845-6 William Forster visited the West of Ireland on behalf of the Friends' Relief Committee. He had for his companion Samuel Tuke's second son, James Hack Tuke, whose name has since become identified with all the wise and benevolent remedies which have been, devised for the effectual help and cure of Ireland. Samuel Tuke to his son J^ames. York, 13th of Twelfth Month, 1846. Thou hast not, thou wilt be sure, been very long out of our thoughts ; we have been wondering what you were doing, how you get on, and how you bear the sight of so much misery which you could not at once, if ever, alleviate. Still the voice of sympathy is sweet, where it is believed the party has the will to help, and I i84 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. trust the poor Irish will give you credit for this desire. We have got the appeal from the London Committee : it is a good one, and I have no doubt we shall have a very liberal subscription, though not to the amount which a paragraph in the Leeds Mercury anticipates. It says, " on the authority of the Quaker gentlemen now travelling in Ireland to ascertain the amount of the dis- tress, and to arrange the best means of their relief," that ;^ibo,ooo is likely to be raised by the Quakers.^ I fear this most winterly weather, if it be with you as it is here, will very much try our dear friend William Forster. We have a heavy snow upon the ground ; the poor creatures you are visiting must suffer greatly from want of fire and clothes, as well as food. I hope, dear James, that thou wilt not get overdone in this service of love, and that it may strengthen thee in the desire and effort to live to Hini who has called thee to walk with Him by faith .^ 1 In the summer of 1848, the Central Relief Committee of the Society of F'riends published the following statement : — Total amount of donations (including America), with interest £194,879 17s. 7d. ; grants of money, clothing, &c., £163,603 i6s. 5d. ; on hand, £31,276 IS. 2d. j 2 Sir Edward Fry, in his recent Memoir of James H. Tuke, quotes the following passage from notes supplied by Mrs. Tuke : — " In writing his pamphlet A Visit to Con naught in 1847, he had the great advantage of his father's criticism and wide knowledge. Owing to pressure of business, they could only work at night, and used frequently to sit writing in the library till the early morning hours warned them to leave off. Once they agreed that it was really very wrong to work so late, and fixed one o'clock as the proper time to stop. For one night the new rule obtained, and then they found it impossible, and, like many another new rule, it was never again regarded. The pamphlet was almost completed, when one evening Samuel Tuke suggested to James that some fresh arrangement in the construction would materially assist the whole work. It meant practically re-writing the seventy pages. But feeling convinced that his father's conclusion was right, the son set to work and re-wrote the whole " (p. 61). PLEA FOR THE IRISH. 185 During the Yeariy Meeting of 1847 ^ meeting was held at Devonshire House to consider the con- dition of Ireland. Valuable information was given by Jonathan Pirn, William Harvey, and others, in regard to the famine, and the steps which had been taken to provide for the wants of the sufferers. In the course of the meeting Samuel Tuke made a speech, which contained an eloquent apology for the Irish people. "They are stigmatized," he said, " as lazy, reckless, and regardless of human life, but the charge of laziness is disproved by the multitudes of those who come over to reap our harvests, and by those who labour at the heaviest employments in London, Liverpool, and Manchester. The present calamity has afforded abundant proof that the Irish are not always lazy. They have been most thankful for work ; they have undertaken it even in a state of destitution and depres- sion of animal powers, which might well have excused them from the task. Labour, too, is not paid there as it is elsewhere ; foiirpence to sixpence a day are the average wages, and tenpence is considered quite as extra pay. " It is said the Irish are reckless. We have been furnished with a proof to the contrary in the care with which they have, during this season of extremity, re- served their seed potatoes for a future harvest. Another and most interesting evidence of their thrift, their patriotism, and their natural affection, is to be seen in the remittances of the poor emigrants in America to their relations at home. "It is said that they are a murderous race, that they are regardless of human life. It is admitted that they are so ; but, suffered from year to year to perish under i86 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the eyes of their natural protectors, a few assassinations are not to be wondered at. If such a charge is to be made, it belongs to the nominal proprietors of the soil, who live in carelessness of those who are dependent upon them. Not that all the landlords of Ireland have this character ; there are amongst them many and honourable' exceptions. " If the country is to be helped, it must be by a thorough change in its political relations. It is not that Friends are to lend themselves to party strifes ; such a line of conduct would produce just an opposite result. Yet our dear Friends who have been engaged so thoroughly, heart, mind and body, in the service of their fellow-countrymen, may consider themselves re- sponsible, individually, and perhaps unitedly, for the radical reformation of the moral and physical condition of the sister island. Few as they are, they are sufficient to diffuse a tone of better feeling, to suggest measures to meet the various forms of moral disease (the result of ages of cruel selfishness), and, consistently with the religious position which they occupy, to exercise a. happier and more favourable influence upon society." We may here refer to the active interest which Samuel Tuke took in the condition of the destitute Irish in his own city, many of whom were stricken with fever. It being resolved by the Guardians to erect a temporary wooden building as a hospital, and no other site being found, he offered the use of a field, not far from his own house. So fatal was the fever, that few except the medical men and the nurses dared to enter the buildings. Samuel Tuke's visits were frequent, and the scenes of misery which he witnessed produced a profound impression upon THE FEVER-STRICKEN IRISH IN YORK. 187 him. Some memoranda made by his daughter Maria in the Seventh Month of this year refer to this subject : " During this summer rrty father's heart has been full of the wrongs and sufferings of Ireland, and his head busy in devising schemes for the temporary relief of the starving people. Many have flocked to York, as to other places, to escape the horrors of famine ; and to find employment and food for these was my father's unwearied care. They are dying of fever around us. One morning a poor Irishman died in a ditch. He and his wife and child had been travelling about for weeks, and at last, being taken ill, had begged a lodging ; but no one would take them in, so they sought shelter under a hedge. James took them a blanket and some old carpet, and William some straw, for the night ; but in the morning the man died. My father and James attended the inquest.^ The former said it was most affecting (and I remember well how much he was affected in narrating it) to see the child, a girl about ten, saying she would never leave her bonny father, and holding a large clasp knife, kissing it, and saying it was her father's knife. A child full of sentiment my father called her ; and the poor woman said the man had been a beautiful husband to her. The woman and her child were taken to the Fever Hospital. My father went to the Hospital the next day, to see them ; he found the woman living, but expecting to die. The child looked up at him so sweetly, he said : he intends to take care of her if the mother dies." In a letter to Jonathan Pim, acknowledging his book on the state of Ireland and the proceedings of I James caught the fever from the poor man, and did not completely recover for several months. i88 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the Relief Committee, sent to him by the author previous to pubKcation, there is an historical passage which it may be profitable to ponder at the present day. The perusal of thy sketch did not leave upon my mind a sufficiently clear impression of the profligate confiscations of property, and the hardly less profligate appropriation of immense portions of it to individuals, of these transactions repeated and repeated, of the frauds, violations of solemn compacts, and of the thoroughly sordid, venal spirit, which, till a compara- tively recent period, has characterized the treatment of Ireland by Kings and Queens and Parliaments, English and Irish. Her present standing is predicated in those proceedings. The reign of Charles I. affords some of the most shocking instances of injustice to the Irish people, in the breaking of promises, and in venal extor- tions. It occurred to me in reading thy historical sketch, whether that period, as a specimen, might not be rather more particularly developed. The property of Ireland was then mostly in the hands of Romanists. Charles used the penal laws as a thumb-screw to obtain what he wanted, and overthrew titles fixed in the reign of Henry VIII. He received a grant of _^i20,ooo from the Parliament as the purchase-money of the people's right to live under the English laws, and then continued to treat them as without the pale of the law. It is true they preferred his rule to that of the Commonwealth, from the idea that he was favourable to Popery, and so brought upon them the terrible vengeance of Crom- well's sword, and a series of confiscations of land, the appropriations of which were regulated by creed. XXII. NOTES OF CONVERSATIONS, BY HIS DAUGHTER MARIA. 1848. FIRST Month 6th. — Had veryinteresting conversation with my father and Henry on Church Government, deference to weak brethren, etc. "That is a daily study with me, Paul and his weak brother," said my father. We read the 8th and loth of ist Corinthians, and the 14th of Romans, together. My father has a high idea of the authority of a church over its members ; he thinks that even if a church, founded on what he believes to be true Christian principles, be very weak and unsound in practice, a strong member should remain in it, and suffer manfully, upholding the right, rather than leave it. Second Month 23rd. — My father talked of the working up of the mind on religious subjects. " There is," he says, " no workipg up in the Bible. I am more and more persuaded that doctrinal knowledge is far too highly estimated in the present day. Love is the thing. The Apostles themselves did not see all, they did not understand how some things could be ; but they had love, and so they grew and understood more and more, by degrees, as their eyes were more opened." 24th. — My father said, " I was reading in a West- minster Review at the library the other day some 189 TQO LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. account of Shelley ; and I do think the Newgate Calendar could hardly present a worse picture of man ; so devoid of moral sense apparently." I spoke of the almost deranged state of both mind and body as some excuse ; his education, too, trained as he was by his father in infidelity, so that it seemed almost inevitable he should be what he was ; and said, " Surely he would be beaten with few stripes." " Yes," said my father, '' we have nothing to do in awarding his punishment. It is not for us to sit in judgment on him, as to what he deserves ; but we must not lose sight of the sin. We are too apt to forget what sin really is. There is far too much admiration for such men, too much allowance made for them. If a common mail steals, he is thought very wicked ; but if a man of genius defrauds his neighbour, he is excused." Third Month 2nd. — " I should like," said my father (referring to the state of religion in England at the time of the rise of Friends), " to see a good sketch of the men of that period, those who were types of particular views or classes of mind. There was Henry More ; Coleridge took a great deal from him. There was John Smith of Cambridge, Baxter, Owen, and George Fox." " And Bunyan." " Yes, and Bunyan too, and Howe ; Howe was a remarkable man. And there were some others, Leighton and Norris." Then there was Defoe (for Norris reminded us of him). They are all types, and there seem to be types of the same classes in every age. " Yes ; and it would be interesting to compare the types of this age with those of that age. There is nothing new under the sun. Solomon must have been a man who had very large views of the Universal." Warning us one day against accusing people of affectation, my father said, " What we suppose to be affectation so often arises from mental or physical infirmities, that all we can give as a rule is. Judge not." MYERS. NATURE— PROVIDENCE— GRACE. 191 Eighth Month i6th. — After reading this morning my father remarked, " How constantly our Saviour appealed to the enlightened reason, the right judgment of man, something in man, which can discern between good and evil." I said Myers spoke of the reason and conscience as the lights which light every man coming into the world. My father turned to the first chapter of John, saying, " Surely he cannot think that this light did not apply personally to Christ." He read several verses showing that this light, though spoken of in reference to Christ in his appearance upon earth, had nevertheless been from the beginning. Memorandum by Samuel Tuke, Ninth Month, 1848. Nature, Providence, Grace. We seem to use these words with very little precision of meaning. We speak of Nature making an effort to throw off disease ; of a Providential recovery ; or we say Divine Providence favoured our plans. After an uncomfortable feverish night, a perspira- tion broke out all over me this morning, which gave me indescribable relief. We call this an effort of Nature ; meaning, I suppose, that according to the established laws of the physical economy of man, this event took place. Certain provisions and arrangements have been made in my original structure, and tendencies have been given to it, which constitute the laws of its action and lead to certain results. These laws are the appoint- ment of the All-wise Creator ; and when we personify nature, we ought surely to carry our thoughts to the great First Cause, and to adore Him as the beneficent giver of the blessings which we enjoy under his appointed economy. It is by his good providence that our bodily frame may be said to make efforts for self- healing ; and it is not presumptuous in the humble and grateful mind to recognize the Divine Hand as applied 192 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. individually to his relief, notwithstanding that all his brethren partake of it likewise. The multitude of the receivers ought not to lessen in the mind of each recipient his sense of individual debt to the great Giver. The love which has prompted the beneficent provision for all, comprehends, knows, and sees each, and each may, therefore, and ought to look up to the universal Father as his Father who is in Heaven, who compassetb his path, and knoweth his rising up and his lying down. This view of the universal pi-ovidence of God, as a ground of our filial piety, is no way opposed to the belief in special or particular providences. If the uni- versal care and love be but the aggregate of individual regards, and we consider every one of his creatures as seen, known, and cared for by the common Father, we shall not be much disposed to limit his exercise of power to what we call the general laws of his provi- dence ; and the question whether those extraordinary occurrences, which we call special providences, are connected with some regular law whose lines or orbit we cannot trace, or are the exercise of an independent volition, will not much trouble the mind of an humble believer in the revelation made to him of God through Jesus Christ. It is a disbelief in the actual, active care of man by the Almighty, which appears to be at the root of all difficulty in the matter ; but the believer, in this case, is not therefore required to attribute every remarkable event to an extraordinary effort of divine power. I am inclined to think that, though quite distinct, there is great analogy between the operations of Nature and Grace. As under the economy of Nature there is a measure of understanding given to men universally, is there not good ground to believe that under the economy of Grace, a measure of spiritual light is given to all men, and that in proportion as it is exercised, or WAR AND GREED. 193 neglected, so is the individual made subject to Grace, gracious. Yet this hinders not at all that there should be other means by which Grace is communicated to us. Notes of conversations resumed. Tenth Month 27th. — This evening my father came in very tired. He had been at the Board of Health, and visiting the new Workhouse. We read to him some of Hamilton's little book, The Happy Home ; and The Gun and the Gospel, in which the writer sets forth in glowing colours the superiority of these days of peace over those of war. " Well, really," said my father, "it is rather a change of evils than a great advancement, though doubtless there is some ; but the speculation, the grasping after wealth, which has gone on during the last twenty years, has led, or will lead, to almost as much evil as war did.^ Only think of the numbers who thought themselves wealthy a little while since, who now have nothing, and the misery it entails upon many who are far less able to bear it than they would have been ; and look at all those powerful men employed on the railways, and living in such fearful vice and ignor- ance, their wives and children often supported by the parish, where they have left them while they are feeding every day on all they desire, and gratifying every passion." " Such men would have been soldiers in former days ? " "Yes ; or glumping down somewhere. . . If the world were governed by Christian principles, I have no doubt men would be in an active state ; but there would not be this striving after wealth." My father conversed also on the absurdity of supposing that men would ever be persuaded to give up war on the ground of expediency. I This was the period of the great Railway Mania, of whicli George Hudson (known as the Railway King), a citizen of York, was the most active promoter. In the collapse which followed, many Friends of York, as of other places, were sufferers. 194 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. 29th. I said I should like to see a person receive Christianity /res^ from the Bible, who had never heard any explanations, etc. " Fresh ! my dear," said my father, " why, it would not be fresh to anyone. There is no blank paper. They would be Pagans, or some- thing. I believe Christianity is far better understood now than in the first centuries after Christ, that we have much clearer ideas of it than those who had just emerged out of Judaism, or Paganism, or Platonism. The mind will retain something of what it has been accustomed to ; and so I often think, in the first fifty years of our Society, I can trace in the minutes of the meetings a good deal of what was brought out of the churches from which they had separated." " Some- thing of Popery," said Henry, " a readiness to excom- municate." " Good men they were, and bright ones ; but they retained something of their educational pre- judices. After all, if any one wishes to have the truth in its simplicity and fulness, he must give up his heart to the truth, and let the truth teach him." XXIII. LETTERS. 1847— 1848. THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. Samuel Tuke to his daughter Maria. loth of First Month, 1847. THE event at Norwich [the sudden death of Joseph John Gurney] will excite, very extensively, the feeling of sorrow. J. J. G. was engaged in so many pur- suits of benevolence, and had so large an influence in his native place, that his removal will be felt as a public loss. His benevolence was exercised after a noble, princely sort. How much he was really loved and honoured will be now better known than it was whilst he was living. To yosiah Forster. York, 2Sth of First Month, 1848. I have had copied out the notices of the Barbary captives in the Yearly Meeting Epistles.^ These 1 Samuel Tuke printed these notices under the title of " Account of the Slavery of Friends in the Barbary States towards the close of the Seventeenth Century." We know little now-a-days of what our forefathers suffered for conscience' sake. " One Friend (to wit Joseph Wasey)," says the Yearly Meeting's Epistle of 1690, " being lately redeemed and newly come over, gave a large account to this meeting of their miserable hard usage in captivity : having no lodging but under arches, in deep places on the cold ground, winter and summer ; only water for their drink ; and no 195 196 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Epistles are truly worthy of a church. It is curious to see how much the whole proceeding is characterized by the qualities which the world attributes to the body at present ; it is difficult to say whether prudence or charity is more conspicuous in the measures of the Yearly Meeting, as well as of the Meeting for Sufferings. In passing through them in the collection, I was struck, as I have been before, with the evidence which is afforded by those earlier epistles of the perfect graces of a Christian people. What love, what patient endurance, what gentleness, what prudence, breathe throughout these simple records and counsels ! If all traces of Quakerism were lost but those which are contained in the iirst hundred pages of the octavo volume of the Epistles, the evidence would be ample of the existence of a pure Christian Church, built on the foundation of the apostles, Jesus Christ being the chief corner-stone. I fear, whoever looks back upon our age, one hundred years hence, from any pure apostolical standard of Christianity, and contrasts it with the former, will speak of it as an age of words, and insomuch a retrogression from the primitive testimony and practice of the Christian Church and of the early Quakers. To James Backhouse. York, 28th of First Month, 1848. An affection of my head, which makes me think I am better out of a public meeting at present, prevents me being at the Peace meeting this evening. I hope bread allowed them by the king, but of old rotten, stinking barley ; and no clothes but a frock once in two years ; and forced to hard labour (except three days in the year) ; and more especially on the Sixth-day of the week (which is their day of worship), they are compelled to carry heavy burdens on their heads, running from sun-rising to sun-setting, with brutisli blacli boys following witli wliips and stripes at their pleasure." POLITICAL REVOLUTIONS. 197 the meeting may lead many to think more seriously of what war is, in its origin, and in its effects upon man- kind, civilly, morally, and religiously. To strike at the root of war, which is declared, on high authority, to be the lusts which war in our members, is the office of the religion of Christ, and it is the only agent by which the universal brotherhood of man can be thoroughly established. To yames Hack. {On the Revolution which was then going on in France, Austria, etc.) York, nth of Fourth Month, 1848. My dear Brother, — I look with no satisfaction on the proceedings in Paris ; at least, taken as a whole, I do not expect from them any real amelioration of the condition of the French people. No doubt there has been much sordid selfishness in high places ; and much of the present disorder may perhaps be considered as the natural result of corrupt government ; but is there a sufficient leaven of the good among the people to maintain a really free government ? I do not call the present such an one. The power of the mob, or call it the multitude, to legislate and adjudicate, is the grossest tyranny ; and quiet, industrious people are now, I do not doubt, wishing for a military despotism, rather than the state of disorganisation under which they are living. I cannot say I have much pity for Louis Philippe, none at all for Francis of Austria and the deep Metternich. We have nothing to boast of, much to be humbled for, in looking into what we are as a people, high and low, rich and poor ; yet may we not hope that there is still a little salt amongst all classes? And surely we have much in many ways to make us truly thankful ; and I believe there is a strong general feeling in the igS LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. country, that we have, in our poUtical institutions and condition, far more to love and honour than to throw down and change. The desire to alter certain things is perfectly compatible with this feehng ; indeed I know not but this continual effort to improve matters around us proves our essential value for the great framework of our social institutions ; and is it not, at any rate, better that the energy of the restless members should be continually passing off, than that it should be pent up till it bursts out in an overwhelming ebulli- tion ? 1 To Josiah Forster. York, Eleventh Month, 1848. I have been desirous of late to know something of the state of the Italian mind. Mariotti's Italy throws some Hght upon it. It would seem that there is much seeking after truth either human or divine ; that there is an awakening of a mass which we had been wont to consider as in an inert state, except as regards political liberty. If anything but the simple truth be wanted for Italy, it is first ah argument addressed to the Free- thinkers, to show the inadequacy of unassisted reason to develop the most important truths with respect to man ; and secondly, an argument addressed to Papists, setting forth the liberty which there is in the true church, under the spiritual authority of its only Head, Christ. I cannot but think, had such an opening as the present occurred a little short of two hundred years ago, what a number of zealous and holy men would, in I Henry Tuke Mennell vividly remembers a prayer offered up in York Meeting by his grandfather at this time, its deep feeling, solemnity and power, on behalf of the Queen, Government and people of this country, that they might be preserved from the calamities and overturnings in which the Continental nations were everywhere involved in this year of Revolution, 1848. THE TRUE CURE FOR SOCIAL EVILS. 199 all probability, have gone, whilst the door was open, to spread the truth abroad. We must not, however, run upon their authority, but do whatever we do upon the authority on which they acted. The political excitement on the Continent during this memorable year often drew forth from Samuel Tuke an expression of his views on the right means of attaining civil and religious liberty. To his son Daniel. 30th of Eleventh Month, 1848. Our talk the other evening about the true cure for the social evils of our time led me, with a particular reference to some suggestions and objections of thine, to put down yesterday, in a rough way, a sort of a resume of my views ; and having made a little addition this morning, I send the notes to thee for perusal. My principle is this : That moral evil in men, individually, is the root of the chief social evils which exist in the world or in nations. It is opposed to the principle which is very prevalent at present, that the evils which affect men, individually, are chiefly owing to the action of those who govern them, either magisterially or through the influence of wealth. The latter principle rests upon another, namely, that man is inherently good, and that the evil in him, as evidenced by acts, is circumstantial. My principle involves an opposite doctrine, namely, that man is by nature prone to indulge himself in things which are not good, that he lusteth to evil ; and that in the indulgence of his natural tendencies he does not obtain that which is best for him in this life, but, in a multitude of instances, runs to wreck and ruin. 200 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. It is a fair corollary, from my principle, that for the cure of social evils we must look mainly to the means which affect man's moral condition ; and, above all, to those which lead him to the recognition of God, as a holy, ever-present and all-seeing Being, who will judge and reward his rational creatures righteously and in mercy, through his own appointed means. This doctrine leads to the conclusion that religion is to be considered the primary agent in man's social improvement ; that, in fact, it is the only absolute cure for his ills, individually or in the aggregate ; but it does not by any means affirm that no other than a direct religious agency should be employed in the promotion of human improvement. It is an indisputable fact that men may be tempted to evil and led into the commission of evil by circumstantial means, not absolutely of necessity, but actually from man's weakness. It is therefore clear that the removal of certain circumstances may be a means of preventing moral evil, and assist in- dividuals in the maintenance of a good conscience towards God and man. Ever bearing in mind this root of all good, it is, therefore, a high duty of all who desire the improve- ment of society, to seek to remove the causes of offence or temptation, so far as is compatible with a right liberty of individual action. Under this category of means we have a long list of particulars, amongst which the religious, moral and literary training of youth stands first. Hardly second, if it ought not to be included in the first, is the force of example, especially of the higher upon the lower classes. Then we have a right con- sideration for the external wants of the poor, a sympathy with them under their various trials, binding the various classes together in a common social bond. From this would spring a multitude of good offices closely affecting the comfort of our labourers with reference to their dwellings, etc. LAW. 201 But there are two other great agencies which Appear to belong to a somewhat different class, which ought to have a material influence in the prevention of moral evil and the promotion of moral good in the community, namely, the Church and the Government. To speak first of the latter, which, no less than the former, may be said to be a divine appointment for the good of man. Law has for its fundamental object the protection of man against man ; it is to be a terror to the evil-doer and for the praise of them that do well ; the law is to restrain the evil man, to protect, and thereby encourage, the good man. How much moral evil in individuals is checked in our country, and virtue promoted by its laws and by their administration, cannot be told ; the amount of good we believe to be immense ; and yet there are sufficient defects, both in the laws and in their administration, to allow us to refer to the im- provement of both as a great means of promoting virtue and discouraging vice. The law ought to find a hearty response in the understanding and conscience of the most truly enlightened of the people ; the men who administer it should be the impersonations of justice ; and the courts in which it is administered ought to be the sanctuaries of truth. A court of law, rightly administered, would be all but the sublimest spectacle on earth. If this beau ideal were realized, how would it awe vice and do reverence to virtue? But this in- .fluence cannot be attained by any mimicry of the thing itself ; the veritable administration can never veiy much surpass the real standard of excellence existing in the people. The defects of our laws and of their administra- tion are truly to be traced to moral evil in the people individually. Water cannot long run higher than its source. If, by some violent effort, the administration of the law could be raised above the standard of the people, it would inevitably return to its natural point. 202 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. though the precise form of its evil might not be the same. It is well worth inquiry, however, whether the public feeling would not support a higher standard than at present prevails. The Church is not here spoken of as that community- established by law in England, or elsewhere ; nor of that priestly portion of the community who form a cor- poration aggregate ; but of any community of persons drawn together by the love of Christ and by essential union in doctrine and practice, and who believe them- selves bound to watch over one another for good, and to help one another in love, as Christian brethren. Where there is no such care and discipline, there can hardly be said to be a Christian community or church. But where the true bond of union exists, and where a degree of true Christian care over each other is exer- cised, and especially where this care is widely diffused amongst the living members of the body, there is, so far as its sphere extends, one of the (or rather the) mightiest influence provided in the economy of Divine Providence, for the true elevation of man's grovelling mind ; for the restraining of evil, and the promotion of good. Each single community thus formed, and thus acting, is a part of that great aggregate (the real extent of which is known only to the Omniscient) which con- stitutes the Church of Christ on earth. As in the case of Government, so also in that of the Church, there are many defects to be noted ; more, I , fear, in the latter than the fornjer. It may be doubted whether, in many instances, some of the religious com- munities do not by conduct teach evil, do that which tends to blind and deaden conscience. Falsehood, in any form, in connection with religion, does this fearfully ; oaths in connection with religious acts at college ; the forms in the appointment of bishops ; the baptismal and burial services in the Church of England. Then there THE CHURCH. 203 is the monopoly of gifts by one individual, which pre- vails in most of our religious communities, by which the circulation of the life's blood throughout the body is obstructed, whatever- protests may be made against priestcraft ; one Rabbi lording it over the people, who look mainly to him as the organ of their spiritual blessings. That many do not altogether rest on him we beheve ; but that very many do, we also believe ; and that the system tends essentially to servility of mind, and to the deadening of conscience, we cannot doubt. Thus the professing Church, which ought to be the pillar of the truth on earth, is, to a large extent, stulti- fied, and even in many cases is as a guide-post to error. The correction of these evils is of the highest im- portance ; but how is it to be accomplished ? What is the root of them ? As of old, the priests ruled by their means, and the people loved to have it so . So at pre- sent, if the people did not like things as they are, they would not be. The remedy is, therefore, to be found in a change of mind on the part of the people ; and it is not a mere intellectual change that is wanted, but one which brings a real heart-love of what is better, which leads to true reverence for the dictates of a conscience, divinely enlightened, in which there is a seeing together with God. I know no other outward means for the attainment of such an object but the provision of such labourers in the Gospel harvest as George Pox and his coadjutors, who, in the love and power of truth, went forth, two hundred years ago, calling men from depend- ence upon man to dependence upon Christ alone ; who not only redeemed his people by his blood, but has promised to be with them as their all-sufficient Teacher. The real enlargement of the Church, and the true stimulation of its healthy exercise, are the most powerful means of increasing the good, and diminishing the evil, which exists in any community. Let v^s begin at home, and see what is our part in the great service of the day. XXIV. LETTER— SERMON — DEATH OF SAMUEL TUKE'S SISTER MARIA. 1848. Samuel Tuke to his son James on his marriage. York, 13th of Eighth Month, 1848. My dear James. I was much affected by the expression of thy ten- der feelings on quitting the parental roof. Very cordially do I reciprocate those feelings. Thou hast been dear and sweet to me in childhood, youth and manhood ; and never more so than when, rising to the character almost of a younger brother, some of my earlier hopes were realized, and I saw thy warm sym- pathies and good understanding combining healthily to- gether, and giving thee a place of usefulness amongst thy fellows. I know thou art no stranger to the good Guide who leads into Christ's schdol, to bear his yoke, which binds the flesh but liberates the spirit, and gives the only freedom worthy of the name. I could speak a good deal of the blessedness of Such a union as I trust yours is, of its influence in strengthening the mind to act jointly more indepen- dently of wrong influences than in the single state we had been wont to do. The feeling, too, of increased responsibility for each other which such an intimate LETTER TO HIS SON JAMES. 205 union induces, tends to an increased individual care over the conduct in life, daily and hourly, lest in any way the one may lead the other astray, or in any manner obstruct the work of grace. I am bound to speak very lowlily of my own part in this matter, but I think I may speak of it, at least, on the part of that lovely and most gentle partner with whom it was my privilege to spend eighteen years of my life. I cannot look back to any act or word by which she led me astray, or discouraged in me what was good ; but I well remember how her quiet good sense and exquisite gentleness tended to soften the asperity and hardness of my nature, and ta check a degree of severity of expression to which, in connection with some very opposite lines of character, I was prone. I mention this mainly to illustrate what I mean by the feeling of responsibility for each other which appertains to the married relation. Loving Ms wife as his own body, it is his duty, his interest, and his privilege, to watch over that precious part of himself with a constant sedulousness, that nothing may deteriorate it, but that, on the contrary, it may increase in strength and beauty, and in every grace. I seem to be making a very serious affair of this married state into which you have just entered, yet I almost believe not more so than you are inclined to feel it to be ; for, indeed, he can know little of the truest bliss of the married state who has not found it in the closest connection with those deep reciprocal solicitudes of which I have spoken. And now bidding you farewell, in very dear love to you both, I remain. Thy affectionate father, Samuel Tuke. 2o6 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Some notes of a Sermon by Samuel Tuke about this period are subjoined : — I have often been deeply instructed in remembering that passage : " The kingdom of heaven is within you." We all know that the primary signification of these words, " the kingdom of heaven," is that blessed future state, in which there is no more pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing ; for all tears shall be wiped from off all faces ; that temple which needeth not the light of the sun by day, nor of the moon by night ; for God himself is there, and the Lamb is the light thereof, The forerunner of Jesus had preached that men everywhere should repent, " for the kingdom of heaven is at hand " ; but our Lord says, the kingdom of heaven is come, is within you ; not coming, but already, with them. This kingdom, which prophets had foretold, and which men in all ages had longed after, and which all the types and symbols of the Jewish worship had shadowed forth, was come. The Mosaic economy, which consisted so much in outward observances, with all the circumstantialities of the law, was now to be done away ; for the kingdom of heaven is within you ; the substance is here. The kingdom of heaven is spoken of as a power which must work in the heart of man ; and our Saviour compared it in parabolic language, to many things familiar to those he was addressing: — "The kingdom of heaven is like leaven, which a woman took and hid (that is buried) in three measures of meal, until the whole was leavened." And so the power of God works in the heart, leavening our clayey natures, gradually moulding them, and bringing them into the form which He would have them to be in. The kingdom of heaven within you cannot be com- pared to the deeds of our lands or wealth, but rather to SERMON ON THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN. 207 the land and wealth themselves. Oh how slow men have been to comprehend this ; to maderstand that " The kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." 'Tis not words, 'tis not forms, 'tis not professions; Friends, that we want, but the substance. It is a grievous thing that men should have fed so much on the husks and shells, that they should have been so drowned in con- troversy and books of commentary, instead of coming to drink of the true water of life. And it was the sense of this, the consciousness that they needed the sub- stance, and that the husks and shells could not satisfy them, which distinguished those whom we are accus- tomed to call our predecessors. And it is not a high veneration for those worthies, for worthies they were, which can constitute us their descendants. We must know experimentally for ourselves that for which their souls thirsted, and which they found. They did indeed ask, and to them it was given ; they did indeed seek, and it was given to them io find that which we must all individually and experimentally find, if ever we would come to Mount Sion, and to the innumerable company of angels, and to the spirits of the just made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant. What says the sweet Evangelist John ? For we know not — (what a lesson to vain curiosity !) — for we know not what we shall be ; but we know that we shall be like him ; for we shall see him as he is. Oh that this true logic were more considered, that we did more fully believe that if we would see Him as He is, we must be like Him ; that without likeness there cannot be union ; that it is impossible there should be sight without like- ness. ' " To as many as received Him to them gave He power to become the sons of God." We must feel our need of a Saviour, before we can profit by a Saviour. We must i-epent, before we can experience the blood of 2o8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. sprinkling, and know that joy and peace which are in the Holy Ghost. We must be made sons and daughters on earth, members of that kingdom of heaven which may be said to have come down to earth (for where God is, there is heaven), before we can form any part of the hierarchy of heaven, or join the spirits of the just made perfect, who consort with the innumerable com- pany of angels, and with God and the Lamb, for ever. The autumn of this year was saddened by the illness and unexpected death of Samuel Tuke's sister Maria. Besides supplying the place of a mother to his children, she had been to himself a true sym- pathizer in care and sorrow, a tender and judicious friend to whom he could confide the various anxie- ties which he was naturally too prone to shut up in his own breast. Devotion to others, say the editors of the Memoirs, was the rule of Maria Tuke's life. . . Unselfishness, generosity, kindness to the poor, sym- pathy with the weak and oppressed, and an extreme love for the young, were the most striking features of her character. But there was, in addition to these, a remarkable ingenuity, as it were, in the manner in which she showed her kindness. There was a ready perception of that which would contribute to the happiness of others, and a singular completeness in the means she took, and the various acts she performed, however trifling in themselves, in order to add to the happiness of those in health, and relieve the sufferings of those in sickness. In a letter written while she was nursing an invalid, she says : "I feel I owe my all- bountiful Creator a thousand times more, in that He has placed me in the midst of duties, and of trials, and of pleasures, which have all tended to strengthen and DEATH OF MARIA TUKE. 209 multiply the sweet cords of affection and domestic love, rather than given me riches, or abilities, or genius. Yes, I had rather be the humblest being, with just plain sense enough, loving and loved, than I would be the richest or the most talented, excluded from the fair fields of Nature's finest, sweetest feelings." Lastly, to strong emotions were united a lively humour, a ready vein of pleasant wit, and a general elasticity of charac- ter, which relieved a trace of melancholy she no doubt also possessed, and a tendency to self-depreciation, which would otherwise have unduly depressed her. M. T.'s " Memoranda," under date the 2nd of Eleventh Month, thus refer to her aunt's illness, and the tender sympathy of her father : Our beloved aunt Maria was taken from us, after a short and painful illness. How often during the last few hours of her life (the only time in which danger was apprehended) I was struck with the intense tender- ness, and quiet self-possession, of my dear father's manner. There was no hurry or excitement. He seemed to know exactly how to place her pillows, as no one else could, when her extreme pain, " agony " as she truly called it, produced distressing restlessness ; and then, when a few minutes of comparative ease followed, he sat down by her with such tender, upholding love, to listen to her words of humble self-abasement, and loving thoughtfulness, even in death, for those she was about to leave. He reminded her that she had loved her Saviour. " Yes, I have loved Him," she said ; " but what has been my service ? " When dear aunt Esther Priestman (who only arrived in the evening) asked her how she felt, she re- plied, " Tolerably easy in body, and wonderfully con- fiding in mind — wonderfully confiding ! " Even when hardly conscious, her thoughts seemed full of peace. 210 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. " Oh ! how sweet to walk by the still " — and then she stopped. " Oh ! how glorious ! how beautiful ! how glorious ! " A very few hours before her death she made a great effort, turning round to my father, and speaking earnestly to him for some time. Then she poured forth her last blessing upon us : " May the Almighty* Father, for the sake of Jesus Christ, bless you and yours." " I have done with words now," she said ; " there is nothing more now — nothing but praise and thanksgiving." XXV. FAILING HEALTH — THOUGHTS IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH — MENTAL TEMPERAMENT— MEMORANDA OF CONVERSATIONS. 1848— 1849. IN his letters Samuel Tuke frequently refers to the condition of his health, and especially to his severe headaches. It cannot be doubted that his exertions on behalf of the Irish, which were to be among the last of the active period of his life, did to some extent hasten the disorder which ulti- mately compelled him to withdraw his attention from any subject which claimed more than an ordinary amount of thought. The almost feminine sympathy with suffering, and the hatred of oppres- sion in all its forms, which characterized him, had been very strongly called forth, and drew too deeply upon his sensitive and already over-tasked organiza- tion. The following among his daughter Maria's Memoranda refer to his state of health : 1848. — It was very plain during the whole of this year that my father was becoming less and less able to bear the constant mental exertion to which he had been so long subjected. How often I remember him coming 212 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. home from the Penitentiary, Hospital, or New Work- house Committee, every nerve, Hke the chords of an overstrung harp, ready to break with the tension too unflinchingly sustained. At such times he would lie on the sofa, begging to have some simple verses read to him ; and, as the irritation of the brain gradually sub- sided, he would begin to talk of the poor people he had seen, or of some men often banded with him in these committees, who would sacrifice every comfort and benefit of the inmates of these charitable institutions to the hateful, and to him incomprehensible, party spirit and penuriousness which reigned supreme in their narrow minds. Then, with that long mournful sigh which so often made us desire to soothe him more than we could, he would turn to draw a little comfort from the well of sympathy, so deep in his heart, for all who were in any trouble ; talking of " those poor girls in the Penitentiary," so gently and considerately, saying it was his belief that the greater part of them were in some degree deficient in mental power ; at least that we had no need to spurn them from us, as if they only were sinners. He did not like the high, unsympathizing tone of some who addressed them. My aunt's death, coming upon us as it did so un- expectedly, in the midst of her brightness and useful- ness, had considerable effect upon ray father's health. It was followed by the severe illness of two or three members of the family, and a journey to Newcastle during a very inclement season, where, sympathizing deeply with dear Gulielma in her husband [Edward Richardson's] alarming illness, and longing to afford her some efficient help, seemed to bring him one step nearer to the first decided, though slight, attack of the disease, which had no doubt even then been long gradually lessening his power of bodily and mental exertion. FIRST ATTACK OF PARALYSIS. 213 This attack came in the early part of 1849. Not long after it had passed off, Samuel Tuke wrote a brief unfinished account of it, and of his impressions at the time. " Just at the beginning of the year, in an exceedingly cold season, I returned home from a visit to my dear children and grandchildren at Newcastle and its vicinity. I felt on retiring to bed, rather weary and ex- hausted." He goes on to describe the approach and progress of the paralytic seizure which resulted in his losing for a short time the use of one leg, and requiring help in dressing, and in being unable to bear continuous conversation. After which he says : " The consciousness of the liability to a renewed attack, which might close my earthly career, without the attendance or cognizance of any of my beloved children, was frequently rather strongly before me. I was not insensible to the awfulness of my position ; and I thought, too, of the solitariness of being all alone in the last moments of existence ; but I had an entire absence of anxiety, and, indeed, no painful thought on the sub- ject. Indeed, a very singular feeling attended me. So far was death from assuming the aspect of the King of Terrors, that I seemed at times as if I could, without any discomposure, take hold of his hand, even in its vulgar form, to be led down into the grave. I believe that neither philosophy nor religion had anything to do with this cold composure, but that its proper cause was to be found in my physical condition. " I fully believe that it would be unjustifiable, quite in opposition to all I know of my real state of mind at that time, to infer from the calm tranquillity with which I then contemplated the cessation of life, that I had any good ground on which to rest the hope of eternal life. Indeed, I did not look to attain that state /or any good 214 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. works of my own, or for any other thing than the pure love of God to poor fallen man, in and through Jesus Christ. Yet the belief in or acceptance of this love is inseparable from that sense of love, which binds the heart of the believer in true fealty to the Father and the Son ; as Jesus said, ' He that loveth me keepeth my commandments' ; and also the beloved disciple John hath said, ' He that saith, I know God, and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar.' Tiied by these tests, I was not entitled to hope ; I had not this living faith, and yet I was not in that state of healthy alarm which leads to deep contrition of soul and hearty repentance, through which alone I could flee to Christ as a Saviour." " In a few weeks I gained a little more strength, and was able to bear the hearing of reading. My dear Maria was my almost constant caretaker and reader. No books suited me so well as the memoirs of Friends ; they interested without exciting me ; I felt a cordial agreement with the experience they described, in the main." (Ends abruptly.) In reviewing the foregoing account the editors of the Memoirs make some pertinent remarks : "The condition of mind described in the preced- ing entry was not habitual. Doubtless the dark view which he sometimes took of his state was closely con- nected with the attack under which he laboured ; and most instructive is it to observe this intimate sympathy between the body and the spirit. " But apart from the question of the influence of bodily disorders upon the soul's aspirations or its fears, we must not overlook the truth that ' happiness is not our being's end and aim.' In certain constitutions, and at certain times, there may be httle sense of the joyous- ness of the Christian's lot, but rather a sense of that condition under which Paul laboured when he said, THE DOCTRINE OF PERFECTION. 215 ' For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened.' It is a common but very mischievous error to suppose that the Christian will necessarily be trium- phant in the prospect of death, or even that he will experience an undoubted assurance of his salvation. " Many passages in Samuel Tuke's diary show the severe self-discipline to which he subjected his own mind. It must not be overlooked that the doctrine of perfection had been very prominently set forth by the founders of the faith in which he was educated. When he was young, we believe this doctrine was often placed in a somewhat different position from that in which it before had been. The doctrine was in a transition state, so to speak. The early Quaker not only believed perfection attainable, abstractedly, but seldom seemed to doubt that he had arrived at that condition himself. S. Tuke, as he grew up, reading of Perfection in the doctrinal works he found around him, longed to attain this state. And yet, partly from constitution, and partly from the change of view that was silently going on as to the acceptance of the doctrine in its extreme, un- qualified form, he could not feel that he had attained to it.i The ministers of the Society, while dwelling less on the doctrine of ' Perfection in this life,' did not at that time so frequently preach the doctrine of the Atonement as they do now. Hence we believe that, placed as it were on the bridge which connects these two doctrines, S. Tuke was, at times, more self-exacting than he otherwise would have been. He still clung to the doctrine of Perfection as a doctrine ; but he could no longer be free from misgivings as to its truth, when he measured himself by its requirements ; and yet his humility scarcely allowed him to temper the severe I Writing to a friend, S.T. says, " There is nothing, per- haps, in which Friends are more altered, than in regard to the doctrine of Perfection." 2i6 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. view which he took of his own condition by the remem- brance that his love and his faith would be accepted, even though he failed to perform all that he resolved and desired to accomplish. Perhaps, too, in dwelling so much upon the fatal error of overlooking the necessity of a state of sanctification, he sometimes scarcely permitted his mind to repose, sufficiently for its own comfort, on the doctrine of Justification, which, when taken alone, he justly regarded as the abuse of a great truth. " Connected with the low estimate which Samuel Tuke formed of his state was a certain want of hope- fulness in his constitution, which was occasionally exhibited throughout life. He appears to have in- herited this from his mother. Her letters indicate much pensiveness of character ; and it is worthy of observation that in the prospect of death her feelings were of a somewhat sombre tinge, very different from those which characterized her husband under similar circumstances. His (Henry Tuke's) temperament was hopeful, elastic, joyous, and shed many bright rays over both his life and his dying hours. That of his wife and his son was more contemplative." In accord with the foregoing is the outline of Samuel Tuke's character, drawn by John Stephenson Rowntree, the son of his lifelong friend, Joseph Rowntree. " Samuel Tuke's temperament was not naturally buoyant. He had not the habitual hopefulness which characterized his friend and colleague, James Back- house. His views of his own spiritual state were sometimes morbidly mistrustful. His mind did not easily rest. It was ever at work, often pondering the sad enigmas of human life. That powerful intellect MENTAL TEMPERAMENT. 217 would again and again review the phenomena of mental disease. It was distressed at the evidences of sin, and at the deceitfulness of the human heart, as evidenced in personal experience, in the facts of everyday life, in the annals of the past, in the failures of philanthropic and political schemes for the amelioration of the race, in the infirmities of even good men, or in the contentions within the church. There was no exemption from private sorrows, and a sensitive conscience, trained from childhood, kept a lifelong censorship over the details of personal conduct. Thus ' the still sad music of humanity ' was constantly sounding in the chambers of that master mind. _ It may be asked, ' If his concep- tion of human nature was so humbling, was not his apprehension of the redeeming, transforming, purifying, ennobling power of the Gospel of Christ correspond- ingly comprehensive ? ' Undoubtedly it was. But it seemed as if his mind could not but revert to the unwillingness of man to let the redeeming power of Christ do its full work." Samuel Tuke was aware of the character of his temperament, and thus describes it in a letter to his sister Maria. After telling her that he had spent the night alone in the country, he writes : It was solitary but not unpleasing to me. Fond as I am of society, I sometimes think I could, in days when it was the fashion, have made a pretty good hermit. I fancy my dear M. has a similar feeling. We have both of us a tinge of melancholy of which my dear sister Esther knows nothing. This tinge I sometimes think I would not be without. If it deepens the gloomier shades of our course, it gives a richness to the livelier parts. We ought, however, to know our own cast, or we may be misled by the medium through 2i8 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. which it obliges us to see objects. Things are seldom so dark as they appear to us, and we should therefore endeavour to provide a large stock of hope, to secure us against despondency. On another hand we are apt to be misled, by attributing a feeling of dissatisfaction with the world, or a disposition to renounce its society, to that Christian temper which, while it overcomes the world, still feels a strong interest in and attachment, in a certain sense, to those who compose it. I have no doubt that persons of our class have furnished the great mass of monks, and nuns, and hermits, and though these things are now too outre amongst us for one to be in danger of being deceived by them, yet I fear there is a good deal of religious self-deception still prevalent, and that many mistake the suggestions of a melancholy temperament for the feelings of religious zeal and devotion. The Memoranda of his daughter Maria, after describing the slight paralytic seizure mentioned some time ago, relate some conversations which took place during his convalescence. 1849. — 8th of First Month. — My father came down to breakfast looking ill, complaining of great dizziness and much pain in the head. The next evening he was rather better, and talked about his childhood. " I think I must have had some- thing of Georgy's veneration ; for I remember old Jane Ventriss telling me that when I was a child, she was walking with me down Tower Street, and as we passed a poor woman at her apple-stall I dropped a halfpenny for her, at which she said, ' God bless you, my dear ! ' and when I had walked a little further I said, 'That must be a very holy woman, I think.' I was not used to hear such an expression used lightly. I remember, too, HYMNS AND PRAYER. 219 when I was about six years old, I went for a short time to a httle dame-school at Hornsea, and the old woman used to read a prayer every morning when we went into school, which greatly affected me." loth. — My father suffered much from giddiness, and was rather depressed ; in the evening again a little re- vived, and talked in a cheerful manner. He had been looking, he said, at Margaret Lucas's Life. " A great deal of goodness, with a good deal of weakness, as one so often sees. I have very much altered, I think expanded, my view with regard to such mixtures. I used to think there was such a distinct line between good and evil ; and so there is ; but still there are so many ways in which natural character, education, etc., are shown, even when the individual has really experienced a change of heart ; and I see more, that if a person really has the great object at heart, there may be many weak- nesses which, though they do not help, do not destroy the work. Some people take these peculiarities as the main good in a person." My father asked me if I had any verses in my head, and much liked part of that hymn beginning " Father, I know that all my life." When I had finished the one our dear mother was so fond of, " Jesus, still will I adore Thee, Well Thou know'st the sinner's heart," I saw that he was weeping. Often he seems to be in prayer. At night, when in my own room. I can often hear his earnest breathings. 12th. — In the afternoon I read a good deal of Hannah Kilham's little book. The Brook by the Way. He enjoyed many of the remarks, and assented to them ; as he has frequently done when any verse of the Bible has affected him ; as, the other night, when the cure of the ten lepers was read, and the short, comprehensive prayer of the disciples, " Lord, increase our faith." 220 LIFE OF SAMUEL XUKE. Those who were much with him will recollect the peculiar look and heartfelt tone of such assents. 14th. — After hearing the second and third chapters of Colossians, he said, " I have been thinking a little to- day of those sweet words of the Psalmist, ' Thy gentle- ness has made me great ' ; and I have thought, in looking back upon the events of my past life (when I could say the Lord has not forgotten me) that I could in some measure adopt this language as my own : — ' Thy gentle- ness has made me great ' ; not great in outward things, nor in spiritual ones, but great in mercies and blessings ; and I have felt that his gentle hand has sent this stroke to call me from all my indifferences and wanderings, and that now I am restored to some measure of vigour and health by the same loving hand." iSth. — Aunt Esther Priestman arrived. My father enjoyed hearing Macaulay's History of England. The account of the state of Birmingham and other large towns, in the time of Charles IL, interested him much. He did not like Macaulay's remarks on any religious movement. " He has no conception of that love of truth which leads a man to suffer anything, rather than give it up." 18th. — Read the sixteenth chapter of John to my dear father this evening. " I never exactly see," he said, " why the disciples understood so much from those words in the twenty-eighth verse. It must have been that their minds were peculiarly opened just then ; for afterwards how little they seemed really to understand." After tea my father spoke of his grandfather. " I think I never remember seeing my grandfather so much moved, moved to tears, as when I came in one morning from the cottage, and found him reading the paper con- taining the news of the death of the Princess Charlotte." Aunt Esther remembered going home the same day from Oswald Allen's, where she and aunt Maria had VISITS TO THE SICK AND POOR. 221 been taking tea, and, in crossing the old Ouse Bridge on their way, hearing the Minster tolhng the minute- bell, " so solemn in the stillness," said aunt E., with tears in her eyes. 28th. — My dear father was at meeting in the morn- ing. He said he had often intended to visit more amongst our Friends ; not going more out to tea, but paying friendly visits, especially amongst our poorer Friends ; but time, or that state of mind which makes such visits profitable, had seemed so 9ften wanting. " It is so much easier to attend to engage- ments of a public kind, which must be attended to, than to keep in that frame of mind which is needful for some other services." From this time he more frequently visited our sick and poor neighbours, not as one who felt himself raised above them, but with heartfelt sym- pathy and true humility ; often speaking afterwards of the lessons of patience and faith, which he felt that he might learn from them. He had extraordinary readi- ness and power to enter into the concerns and troubles of others, even when engaged in a multiplicity of public and private engagements. His large and ready sym- pathy was one of the most striking parts of his character.! My father has frequently, lately, expressed his sense of the unspeakable blessing of having such a pattern as Christ Jesus, " One in whom all the divine nature which could be in human form was centred." To-night, when I bade my father farewell, he said so kindly : " Now mind and have a good night. Leave all thy cares, my dear." Second Month 23rd. — After hearing some of aunt I Samuel Tuke's house in Lawrence Street, situated very near to the poorest districts of the city, was the centre of a well- organized and judicious benevolence, of which his daughter Maria was the guiding head. 222 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. Sarah Robert Grubb's journal, my father said : " It is that real subjection of heart which all must experience, if they attain to ti'ue peace. I knew something of it about the time when I first said a few words in meeting. It seemed then as if man was nothing, and Christ was all ; as if the chiefest pleasure was in being engaged in His service. I remember about a week before I spoke in meeting, spoke in our meeting, describing very much the state of my mind." Third Month nth. — " I wonder it is not more seen how exactly Job's comforters describe the high pro- fessors (whether among Papists, Churchmen, Dissenters, or Friends) who have no true religious sympathy. They had no sympathy, could not enter into Job's feelings, were so cruel ; and yet they said many true things, just as people do, and have done in all ages, to those who are under the power of religion." Fourth Month 4th. — My father and I came to Saffron Walden a few days since. He enjoys George and Elizabeth [Gibson's] society — the sweet garden, the books, and the quiet library where we sit and read ; some- times an old Friend's book, borrowed from Wyatt George Gibson ; sometimes Maurice's Kingdom of Christ ; Col- man's book on Agriculture ; Macknight, etc. Anything regarding the present state of the people, written prac- tically^ is sure to interest him. The following are portions of conversations, chiefly elicited by what was read : No date. — " The social state of England just now is a very interesting subject : thp way in which it is con- sidered is a striking feature of the times. Twenty years ago one could hardly get any one to think about Ire- land, or the social state of England." In the evening my father asked George whether he thought there was anything in the Bible to give founda- MAURICE'S "KINGDOM OF CHRIST." 223 tion for the idea which is often held with regard to the full inspiration of the historical portions of the Old Testament. " The Puritans," he said, " believed every word inspired ; and many people profess to do so now, many of the clergy. It is a subject on which I really' wish to inquire. I i-eally do not believe that the apostles and early Christians looked upon the Old Testament in quite the light in which it has been since viewed. The priests got it into their hands, and made a trade of it ; they kept it to themselves, and pretended to give out from it what the Holy Spirit said on this or that point." Fourth Month 23rd. — My father read a little of Maurice's Kingdom of Christ. H-e thought Maurice was not correct in thinking that the early Friends would have done more permanent good if they had invented a form more suited to human nature. " I have a firm faith," he said, " that there will be a brighter day, that Christianity will prevail in greater purity in the world than it has yet done, though I cannot so fully believe that our Body will be made the chief instrument in the work. I see no reason either to suppose that they may not be made instruments. We want resuscitating, not remodelling ; and we do not know how life or living members may spring up amongst us. I believe, if the world continues as it is a few ages longer, if it does not become much better, and our Society is looked back to, in connection with the real love to man which has so evidently influenced it in the works in which it has been engaged, that it would appear a very bright speck ; and I think the testimony borne by Friends with regard to the discipHne, etc., of the Church, in their Yearly and other meetings, must have its use in the world. I think some of Maurice's views with regard to George Fox and the early Friends are quite correct. Maurice has a remarkable power of perceiving and describing the various states and differences of men's minds ; but we 224 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. know that his view or vision may not be entirely perfect ; and if he overlooks the smallest item, it may make the whole wrong. I think he overlooks the tendency in man to adapt his beliefs to his own carnal views or state, and the impossibility of his attaining right views whilst in that state." XXVI. LETTERS. 1849. SAMUEL Tuke's letters of this period show no decay of mental vigour, whilst the fruit of his spiritual life becomes even more mellow, and of a richer flavour, as he draws nearer to the goal. To yosiah Forster. York, 20th of Second Month, 1849. I believe we both feel that, though our natural strength may abate, our long-standing friendship knows no wane. Indeed, as one after another of those to whom we have been closely united is removed from us, we almost selfishly cling more closely to those beloved friends who are still permitted to remain with us. And the tie feels peculiarly close to one who has not only been my own friend through life, but who was also the attached friend of my dear father ; I might, perhaps, go still further back, and say of my grandfather. It was very pleasant to find that thou wast able, to so considerable an extent, to resume thy wonted en- gagements. May I not invert the apostolic rule for thy case, and exhort that the husband be obedient to the wife — in all things relating to his bodily exertions ? I find it good to obey my children to no small extent in these matters, especially my dear Maria, whose judg- ment is only exceeded by her unceasing kindness. 225 226 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. I must, I suppose, speak of myself ; and may tell thee that, though far from having recovered my former state, I am able, generally, to exert both body and mind. I find one meeting a day better than two. I attended the Retreat Committee yesterday, but found my head rather worse for it in the evening and night. ' This morning I have been several miles into the country ; so that though my tether is short it allows me much pleasant liberty. And if in more important respects I was equally well, I should indeed feel that I lacked nothing ; but I have a want which the love and sympathy of dearest friends cannot supply. My mercies and privileges have been great indeed all my life long ; but how unanswerable thereto has been my walk ! To Sarah Backhouse. Whitby, 24th of Fifth Month, 1849. It is pleasant to find that so deep a seer as our friend William Forster can catch even a glimpse of better times for our poor Society. I have never felt more strongly than of late that its groundwork is sound, and that the principles which led the early Friends to protest against much which prevailed amongst the " religions " of their day will obtain a more and more general acceptance, as the true light of the gospel becomes more fully recognized. Whether, when a brighter day arrives, we shall be among those who welcome it, coming, as it probably will, in an unpalatable form, does often appear to me very doubtful ; there is such a tendency in all communities either to blend with the surrounding mass, or to become fixed in a hard, dry, stereotyped /onw, which is utterly insensible to the free living action of divine power. However, as formerly he was not a Jew that was one outwardly, but he was the true Jew who was one inwardly ; so the professors of the highest spirituality may prove in a time of true SERLE'S "CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER." 227 awakening the most blind, to the light which their predecessors greeted as the dawning of a glorious day. They who then greet it will be the successors of the early Friends. To Ann R. Alexander (of Ipswich). York, nth of Sixth Month, 1849. Though still feeble, both mentally and bodily, and glad to avail myself of the help of an amanuensis, I am in all respects better than I expected ever to be soon after my attack. Dr. Johnson's view of the means of relieving an enfeebled, and perhaps too active, brain is, I have no doubt, most judicious. Few people seem aware how difficult it is really to relieve the mind from its own busy cogitations, which can go on alone, and in the dark, nearly, if not quite as freely, as in the midst of reading or company. Indeed, I often find a little reading, of a suitable kind, less exciting than the effort to be quite still ; but I believe that nothing is so ■effectual for the purpose as a little gentle out-of-doors employment ; and I am intending to try the effect of the passing a considerable portion of my time at a farm in the country, a few miles from the city. To Sarah Backhouse. 25th of Sixth Month, 1849. I send thee a little book, which I took up at Scarborough, (Serle's Christian Remembrancer), which Jias seemed to me to contain much lively and instructive matter. I have been pleasantly reminded, in reading it, of William Penn's saying, that " good men are all of one religion." To his son Henry. Thirsk, 8th of Seventh Month, 1849. It is indeed one of our many outward blessings, as a family, that we have so many kind and good friends. 228 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. How many worthy persons there are who seem, as respects any efficient help, as if they were solitary pilgrims in this busy world. It is sometimes very humbling to me to think, in Watts's lines : Not more than others I deserve, But Thou hast given me more. Yet no doubt their Lord is able, and I cannot doubt, often does make up abundantly all the wants of his poor children, who, walking solitarily through this wilderness, can say : " Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee?" To Sarah Backhouse. (Refers to Adam's Private Thoughts.) Lawrence Street, 20th of Eighth Month, 1849. I have been much struck with not a few of the thoughts in this little volume, and therefore send it for thy perusal. I have occasionally, when I had a pencil at hand, marked passages ; but very probably, at another time, might not have made the same selection. I shall not like the book the less, on its return, if thou hast used thy pencil on the other margin of the page. I cannot but think it would have been a great relief to the good man's conscience (though, perhaps, not conscious of his burden) if he had been free from the trammels of his church ; but. I^heartily wish that all who are thus outwardly free,, were equally the servants of Christ, and living up to as high a standard of perfection. See pp. 112, 114, 115. I do not mean to say that I like every passage in the book, and I do not like the preface at all.i 1 One passage marked by S.T.'s pencil, and afterwards spoken of by him as being pecuharly applicable to his own feelings, was the following : " Look forward to increasing weakness, decay of intellect, sense and memory, certain pain, sickness, death — without a wish for past enjoyments, and with a hope full of immortality." THE CHURCH'S COURSE. 229 To yosiah Forster. York, 27th of Eighth Month, 1849. I cannot say I am much puzzled, as I find some of my friends are, about the decrease of our numbers. I have heard it said : " If you have the truth, why do you not spread ? " May we not ask in reply, " Where was pure Apostolical Christianity two hundred years after its promulgation ? The professors, even of the purest form, where were they to be found ? " No doubt there were many sincere Christian men amongst the pro- fessors, who had accepted the Gospel in a somewhat corrupted form ; and it is not less true, I presume, that there are now many of our outward lineage who are as near to their ancestors as the third century Christians were to theirs. The course of the Church has been one of perpetual degeneration, with occasional sur- prising revivals, in the divine force of which it spreads for a while against the natural current of the human mind, and then again recedes. It would seem to be generally thought, that pure Christian truth, or, in other words, the Gospel, has but to be exhibited to men, to be heartily accepted. As if the relation of man, with respect to divine truth, was that of an inclined plane, rather than that of a mountain, altogether opposed to its progress. The old fable of Sisyphus is too like the history of the Church ; and yet I would not say that the stone really rolls to the bottom of the mountain, and that there is not, after all the impulsions and repulsions, some steady progress. Nor do I in the least doubt that all obstacles shall be overcome, and that truth, in all its gentleness and power, shall reign over the distracted nations of the earth. I cannot say that I see much, if any, of the foot- steps of this great work in the motley Congress now 230 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. sitting in Paris, though under the emblem of the dove. I think I see more of it in the quiet movements of thy dear brother, William Forster, with a single eye to his great Master's will, as well as in thy wife's and thy own service, which, though it may seem to be but as the handing of a cup of cold water to some fainting disciple, will not lose its reward. To the same. York, 15th of Tenth Month, 1849. I have quite a concern upon my min'd that, if you are at Berlin, you should pay Neander a visit. He is pursuing his great work on Church History, and I want him much to know some real members of our Society, to have the opportunity of asking a few questions, and to have the offer of books illustrating the character of the Society. He is certainly one of the most able and staunch opponents of the Strauss School in Germany, and is able to comprehend and appreciate what is truly spiritual in Christianity, as distinct from all French or German spirituelles, things which are the very antipodes of each other but which are not unfrequently spoken of as if they were identical, or very near akin. Neander has probably classed us in his mind among the mystical sects, and perhaps we need not object to being so placed, for we do profess to look for the immediate or objective influences of the Spirit in a way, which, according to the views of a majority of Christian professors, would be called mystical. The New Test- ament, in this sense, is decidedly mystical. But I think there is a great line of demarcation between our mysti- cism and that of the Boehmen and some other schools, in which thei^e is a great admixture, at least, of human imaginations and high-soaring and puffing-up knowledge, THE EARLY FRIENDS. 231 or pretensions to knowledge. I think, indeed, they may be classed among Rationalists, though seemingly most opposed to reason. Would it not be well to take Neander a copy of the Rules of Discipline, George Fox's Journal, Barclay's Apology, and Gurney's Distinguishing Views 1 But I should like him to have ultimately, if you find him disposed to study the character of the Society, several of the old Journals. The real mind of the people — what they really sought and what they found — is best learned in their own memoirs. I have recently read a large number of these works, and have been struck with the uniformity of their character in several leading points. First, the ground and root of the original union of the early Friends appears to have been, in each individual, a deep personal sense of sin and desire after holiness. Second, a conviction that nothing less than union with Christ by the power of his Spirit would satisfy the longings of their souls, and give them a well-grounded hope of salvation. Third, they looked entirely to the mercy of God in Christ for being brought into this state, and they passed through much conflict of mind, as they were brought to yield to the full subjection of their wills to Christ's will. Fourth, they speak of this as the time of judgment and of godly sorrow working repentance not to be repented of. Fifth, they were brought to a faith, which never seems to have left them, that they were in the new covenant of Christ, their sins being pardoned solely for and by the sacrifice of Christ on the cross at Jerusalem, and the work of regeneration in them wholly brought about by the Holy Spirit. Sixth, there was, therefore, nothing for flesh to glory in, and throughout all their subsequent labours, day by day, they ascribe the praise and glory of whatsoever they were enabled to do, to God alone. Seventh, they were very sensible of their liability to 232 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. fall, and that the work of sanctification was a pro- gressive one ; but they believed they were called to a state of entire and uninterrupted fealty to their Lord and Captain, and whilst that was maintained they were not chargeable with sin, being in their several measures animated by a living principle within, and thereby united in fellowship with Christ, and free in the liberty wherewith he makes his people free. Nothing has struck me more in reading their lives than the evidencfe afforded of their attainment of this state. They seeme(i always to have their lives in their hands ready to be given up rather than break their law of fealty in the least particular ; whilst at the same time they did not despise life, or its outward comforts, and were eminently social and domestic. I know no examples of quiet heroism in Christian history more striking than their conduct displays ; and without presumption or any exaltation of self, but to the praise alone of their great Captain, they could say at the close of their many con- flicts, " I have fought a good fight, I have kept the faith," etc. Eighth, what are called their peculiarities, as their opinions about war, oaths, ceremonial obser- vances in worship, and even tithes (though by several a testimony against these preceded their union with Friends), were not primary points with them, but sprang from their great testimonies to, and experience of, Christ's teaching by his Spirit in the heart, his light in the conscience, by which they were enlightened, puri- fied, and brought to see what heretofore they could not see, though many of them had been eminent religious professors. Now I think Neandei', if he could be induced to make himself acquainted with the early Friends, would look beyond the surface, and not be restricted by those narrow lines of systematic human theology, by which the so-called evangelical class amongst us seem to judge CHURCH HISTORY. NEANDER. 233 all things. I must here again entreat you not to be deterred from visiting Augustus Neander at Berlin.^ To the same. York, 24th of Tenth Month, 1849. To prove my obedience rather than my friendship , I send thee the rough papers on ecclesiastical history which thou desired to see. They really are not worthy of thy perusal. 1 think I have never lent them to anyone, except with a view of reading them to young persons. When I have sometimes dreamed of attempting, in a very humble way, some work on Church History for our younger Friends, I felt that I must begin de novo, with a fair outline before me, showing the proportion of the various parts to each other, and with a clear view of the great principles to be dwelt upon and illustrated throughout the whole ; not as representing to the reader merely the facts which might suit any particular notions, or in any way garbling history to serve a party purpose, but as exhibiting clearly the results which some thoughts for many years, not to say study of the history in its various parts, have fixed upon my own mind. I They (Josiah and William Forster) did see Neander- Tiiey spent some time witli liim in his study, that quiet, unadorned •chamber, in which the German scholar passes his life. He was very loving. The conversation turned on " bearing arms, oaths, the love that was among the early believers, and the freedom they allowed one another in the exercise of spiritual gifts." He ex- pressed his strong belief in the gift of the discerning of spiri^, as •existing in the primitive church. He had read the Journal of George Fox, whose spiritual views he thoroughly appreciated ; •also the Life of John Woolman. Before they separated, the three veteran soldiers of the Cross partook together of the heavenly bread and wine, althoiTgh without making use of the inaterial •Symbols. Neander died the next year. See Seebohm's Memoirs of William Forster, Vol. H., page 277. 234 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. To the same. York, 22nd of Eleventh Month, 1849. It is very difficult at this time to ascertain what degree of dissatisfaction prevailed among Friends \with respect to William Penn's political conduct. I have no doubt that some, perhaps not a few, disapproved of it ; but I think it is quite certain that he was never out of unity with the body. Where the root of unity is deep,, men can afford to diverge greatly in their branches, and even a little in the stem. When the roots are cut away,, the trees must be staked and tied one to another to- keep them in their proper places. I need not apply this. The early Friends had a deep essential unity, with a bfeautiful variety ; yet not such a variety as some men think charity admits of or requires, all men doing as- they list, only agreeing in some great principles. Sub- jection one to another in love, the recognitioh of each other's gifts, their belief in the existence of a church, — the body of Christ, guided by Him, — their real humility of spirit and love of one another, led to a degree of uniformity in connection with freedom which philo- sophy cannot tunderstand. Such men as George Fox, Stephen Crisp, Whitehead, and many others, I have no doubt watched over, and prayed much for, their brother in all the trials of his greatness ; but the idea of casting, him off as a brother, beloved in their common Lord, I durst almost venture to assert, never came within the horizon of their thoughts. To y^ohn Barton. York, 1849. I apprehend that we in this country are in some- what of a transition state, and that a good deal of our old chrysalis case will healthily fall off in another generation or two ; more healthily, if let to fall, than if ENGLAND'S TRUEST BENEFACTORS. 235 violently torn off. But for many years (and never so much so as of late) all my hope of the true improve- ment of our social state has rested on its moral progress ; and I should hear with more hopefulness of a means by which the number of right-principled men, or, in the old sour puritanical phrase, God-fearing men, could be increased, than of the widest extension of the suffrage, or of any other political panacea. I take John Wesley (I could name others) to have been a greater benefactor to England, politically, than any legislator of whom she can boast. XXVII. LETTERS. 1850—1853. To Sarah Backhouse. Norwood, 24th of Fifth Month, 1850. MAY we not be assured that we have a very super- ficial view of the mercies of God in Christ, whilst the whole breathing of our souls is not, " Draw me, and I will run after Thee," and whilst we shrink from that work of entire conversion which brings the very thoughts of our hearts into the obedience of Christ ? Our power in his service, our highest enjoy- ment of his love, and all our well-grounded hopes of enjoying Him in an eternal hereafter, spring, in the ordering of divine wisdom, indigenously out of this state of mind. Strange proof it is of our radically unhealthy condition, that we seem afraid of having too much of that v/hich we acknowledge to be most precious, and of being too much like Him whom we call Master, and speak of as most lovely. To his son Daniel {in London). York, 9th of Seventh Month, 1850. So Sir Robert Peel is really gone ! Though not one of his admirers, I really feel as if I had lost some- thing of value to me, by his removal. There is no man left, to whom, in a time of emergency, the people of England or their Sovereign would have looked with so 236 REUBEN BORLAND. 237 much confidence to guide our counsels. Let us hope that a better than human wisdom will be, ' though unseen, at the helm of our affaii-s. I do think England has, notwithstanding all her misdoings, largely partaken of the protecting care of Divine Providence during the eventful course of the last fifty or sixty years. To yosiah Forster. 31st of Seventh Month, 1850. I do much like this bold Reuben Borland, whose truly characteristic letter I return to thee. I doubt not he is a thoroughly honest teacher, tells what he knows, and will be glad to learn more, whenever he can. Such pioneers of knowledge, under the circumstances of the Iowa and Michigan settlers, occupy a very important post in the rising communities, especially when, as appears to be the case in the present instance, there is withal the love of what is truly good, and a zeal for the right keeping together of the scattered of our com- munity in those parts. I like the tone of condescension in which he speaks, (and which would seem to have pervaded the young Quarterly Meeting to which he belongs) on the subject of the Yearly Meeting arrangements. I like, too, his desire that a Friend whom he values as having laboured amongst them in the love of the Gospel^ should come, as he seems inclined to do, to settle among them. And not less do I like the love and respect which he evidently feels for his English Friends. These, I believe, are healthy feelings, and good elements to work with. I am ready to say, as I write, "Would not the primitive church have sent a Titus or a Timothy to settle amongst them ? " I by no means say they should do so, because the Apostle did so in his day ; but if the American church had such servants at 238 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. its disposal, and found itself called to send its messen- gers forth for more than a passing visit, I must say, if I had no qualms about their right judgment, then I should rejoice in such a step. If, however, in the direct ordering of the Great Head, messengers are sent to be overseers and teachers among those who go forth to clear the forest and make the wilderness to flourish, we may, with little reference to man in the _spii"itual cultivation of the soil, have to say, " What hath God wrought ! " The whole matter fills one with thoughts and hopes more than can be well expressed. I do wish that the state of those we call our brethren in those parts may more and more rest on the spirits of their Friends in England ; and that having a care not to do anything in the case like forcing, they may watch for any opportunity to be helpful to them in the most important things. I cannot doubt that Divine Providence has good and great purposes in the rapid planting of the American wilderness, what- ever we may think of the emigrations in particular cases. Many always have been, and are now, the unconscious instruments in the Lord's work on the earth. If we may hope that up and down in these new settlements there is a fair proportion of men and women of a similar spirit to thy correspondent, I should be very hopeful of them. Under circumstances of need such as theirs, the stones for the various parts of the spiritual building may be very rapidly fashioned by the great master-workman. If the materials were but subject, passive, something like " a nation being born in a day" might be seen among the scattered families in those parts. If I were fit to give these dear Friends any watchwords, they would, I think, be " humbleness of mind and earnestness of spirit in the work of personal religion." SEEING ONE'S CHILDREN " WEEL SATTLED." 239 To his daughter Maria Tylor. York, 25th of Tenth Month, 1850. Very often, ckiring our tarriance at Priestfield, with Edward and Gulielma Richardson, was I reminded of our united visit about the same time last year, and of the loss which I had sustained in the interim, by thy having been called to another scene of action, and to different duties. I trust the change has been in the ordering of Divine Providence ; and I can, without any jealousy or repining, hear of thy happiness in dear Joseph's society, and of his in thine ; indeed, I am greatly thankful on both accounts, and it completely reconciles me to my own loss, though that seemed at one time exceedingly great. I see more and more of the truth to nature of the old woman's view at Maryport, in respect to such matters. Probably thou remembers the story. She was upwards of a hundred years old when thy dear mother and I called upon her. She was not at all superannuated, but hard of hearing, and dull of sight. Being made to understand that we had twelve children, she lifted up her hands, and exclaimed, "That's a mony ! " On thy dear mother's replying promptly, " None too many," she as quickly rejoined, with an arch look, " None too mony ? I warrant you, you'll be right glad to see them all weel sattled." It was not the time for us to enter into the old woman's feeling, but hers was quite as true to nature as ours. There is a time for all things, and to endeavour to force things before their time, or to stay them when their time is come, is never for good ; and, therefore, when the right time comes one must be glad to see all one's children " weel sattled," though the removal from the parent nest is not quite so easy as that of the birds, who are supposed to lose all cognizance or care of their brood when their time of departure is come. That 240 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. would indeed be sad with us who are endued with a reason that looks forward and backward over this earthly scene, and an affection, which enters into all the interests, present and to come, of those whom it has once nurtured and loved. But it just occurs to me, that the old woman rejoiced in one daughter, who still lived witli her, and did the part of a mother to her. I know I enjoy much of the filial love and care of my dear Priscilla and Esther. No father can be more sweetly and affectionately watched over than I am by my dear P., who, as the elder one, succeeds to the place which thou so long iilled, and I believe thou knows what a peculiarly tender cord connects me to her. I hope dear Daniel is going on pretty well, as re- gards his health as well as his studies. He went from us with many prudential and loving charges on the former point, — not to let the sword destroy the scabbard. His mind is held in a feeble case ; and the mind, what- ever may be its high pretensions, must submit to be governed by its vulgar companion, being entirely depen- dent for all its efficiency upon the welfare of the poor body. In the hope of seeing thy loved face once more at home, I bid thee farewell. To Samuel Gurney. York, 8th of Eleventh Month, 1850. I ought earlier to have acknowledged thy kindness in allowing me the privilege of perusing the unpublished memoirs of thy beloved brother, Joseph John Gurney. It has been, I can truly say, a great treat and comfort to have the opportunity of becoming so intimately acquainted with one whom I had long esteemed and honoured. I thought I had known thy brother pretty well ; but, truly, I find I did not know half his worth ; MEMOIR OF JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY. 241 and it is hard to say whether this conviction brings with it more pain or pleasure. The feeling that one has incorrectly, or even inadequately, estimated a beloved friend, with whom we can never again fraternize on earth, gives an indescribable pang, which I dare say thy kindly spirit never has to feel. I am inclined to confess to thee that, although anticipating from the perusal of the volume both in- struction and pleasure, I did expect to meet with matters both of judgment and action with which I did not accord entirely. But now, having heard the greatest part of the volume, I have still to meet with passages which strike my ear with a discordant note. I am glad to iind that you have met with an able editor for the memoirs. It will be no easy task to do justice to them, but I do not know any one so likely to do it as our friend Joseph Bevan Braithwaite. I was, and am, very much obliged to thee for allowing, in consideration of my infirmity, so long a time for the perusal of the large volume. It has been, very nearly, my daily companion whenever I have not been from home ; and my daughters, who are my kind and almost constant readers whenever the service is suitable for me, have enjoyed the opportunity of be- coming acquainted with the deeply instructive records of the interior life of a true Christian Quaker. To yosiah Forster. York, 4th of Twelfth Month, 1850. Di". Arnold's memoirs and correspondence have been before us a second time, and I do like to converse with him very much. He has not left his like, I think, among that class of persons, so honest and so en- lightened, and with such warm affections. I really love the man ; the last chapter is peculiarly affecting and interesting. 242 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. To Sarah Backhouse. loth of First Month, 1851. If I did not believe that all things are possible to Him with whom we have to do — even to raise the dead, and to bid with authority the evil spirits to come out of the possessed — I think I should utterly despair ; but some liftle glimpses of the amazing love of Him who died that we might live, and who, although He would have, needs not my poor service, does sometimes quicken my hopes, and induces me, like the poor Jewish offender when pursued by justice, to seek sanctuary at the horns of the altar. So thouseest, my dear friend, where I am; and if I may but be kept to the end of the few remaining days of my pilgrimage, I may still bless his Holy Name for ever and ever. To yosiah ForsteK York, 30th of First Month, 1851. ■" It is essentially to the Reformation that we owe much of our civil, and all of our religious liberty ; and the respect which is paid to conscience in the legislation of our country is one of the most remarkable and im- portant fruits of the same tree, and its moral influence I believe to be incalculable. As the annoyance of a fly upon our face often makes us unmindful for a time of great comforts, so, I often think, we permit compara- tive trifles to make us forgetful, or unobservant, of the many blessings which we enjoy under, or in connection with, our Protestant Government (I could say. Establish- ment). I could welcome a really hearty acknowledg- ment of our sense of them, and an expression of sym- pathy with our Protestant countrymen, in much of the feeling excited by the Papal movement. As a man, as an Englishman, and (I think I may speak so) as a Christian, I rejoice in the name of Protestant, and am more pained than I can well express when I see, as I NUMERICAL DECREASE OF FRIENDS. 243 think I not unfrequently do, some of our friends so busy in brushing away the flies, that they cannot iind leisure for thankfuhiess for the mercies which surround them.« To the same. York, 7th of Third Month, 1851. The well ascertained fact of our actual decrease does furnish ground for deep consideration on the part of those who believe the principles we profess to be truly accordant with the Gospel.^ I have no faith what- ever in the grand nostrum propounded by so many, the doing away with birthright membership ; nor in the alteration of the rule respecting elders ; nor, indeed, in any alterations of our outward arrangements in connec- tion with the discipline. The work of revival which took place in 1760 through the general visit cannot be imitated. The Society is in altogether a different condition. . There was then a great deal of seen and unseen rubbish to be removed, which called for the exercise of the neglected discipline ; some false life which needed suppression, and much of the true which wanted to be liberated and brought into action ; and, notwithstanding the great degeneracy from primitive power prevalent in the Society as a body, there was a strong phalanx of earnest and able-bodied soldiers to do the work, men of deep wisdom, too, and full of righteous, well-tempered zeal for the truth. Now, so far as human care is concerned, the discipline' may, I think, be said, in the judging part of the work at least, to be impartially and efficiently administered. Neither do I know that there is any direct impediment put in the way of the young life [ For some years past the decrease in numbers of the Society of Friends in England, which was then going on, has been replaced by a small annual increase, but not as yet in proportion to the increase of population. 244 LIFE OF SAMUEL TtJKE. shooting forth ; and not much encouragement given, I think, to the spurious display of the likeness of life, for the sake of words ; but, alas ! with all this negation of what is bad, it seems as if it were possible for the real life to droop, and all but die. Yet I know well that we still have our priests who hear and obey the command to cry, " Spai-e thy people " ; and who shall say whether " man's extremity may not be the Lord's opportunity" ? To the same. Holgate, 30th of Third Month, 1851. We are occupying the old house at Holgate [the former residence of Lindley Murray], in the absence of its owners [James Backhouse and his sisters], who are gone into Devonshire on account of health. We quite enjoy the change, and we think that Henry is rather re- vived by it. I think it suits me, but by listening too long to an interesting book, Marsden's History of the Puritans, my head has been a little disturbed. I have not often, if ever, met with a book of the kind so satis- factory to me. So enlightened and so Christian a view of religious dissidents, is creditable to the church to which he belongs. There is something very different indeed in it from the mere cant of Liberalism. Mary Dyer and her companions are respectfully mentioned. To Esther Seebohm. 26th of Seventh Month, 1851. My beloved cousin, 1 must, in my poor way, try to tell thee how much I sympathize with thee in the joyful meeting at length with thy dearest Benjamin.^ Thou hast been called to the exercise of a quiet patience, which has been deeply instructive to others, I On Benjamin Seebohm's return from a long gospel visit to the United States. MEMOIRS OF LIEUT. ST. JOHN. 245 and, no doubt, has yielded peaceable fruits to thyself. Never, I dare say, has Horton Grange been so sweet to you all, to the father, permitted to rest for a while from his long and arduous labours in the cause of Christ, to the mother, sweetly restored to him again, and to the dear children, rejoicing in the happy reunion of the family. You will be assured, how many of your friends join in warm greetings, and desire also to join in thanks- giving and praise to Him from whom all our blessings flow. Must we not say, " He has done all things well ? " To ^osiah Forster. 31st of Seventh Month, 185 1 (my birthday, aet. 67). I have of late been much inclined to think that we have not sufficiently estimated the importance of those means which stir up the pure mind, which rouse us from our carnal state, and incline us to seek for that truth which we really feel to be good for the soul. The ex- citement of one sincere longing, one deep communing of the heart with itself before the Lord, is it not more influential in the formation and direction of the charac- ter, than all the books of information, however true, and however good on some occasions ? To his grandson Henry Tuke Mennell. York, 24th of Seventh Month, 1853. I intended to have sent to thee the Memoirs of Lieut. St. John, which I had taken with me from Newcastle. They appear to me, in some points of view, exceedingly instructive. He is not to be spoken of as a particularly clever or learned young man ; but in one respect he may be safely held up as a model to those of his own age, or,indeed, of any age, for I can truly say that I have seldom felt so much the occasion I had to sit as a learner at the feet of the writer. He was one of the 246 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. really wise who sought the one thing needful, and sold all that he might purchase it ; and this is what con- stitutes the great feature in the character of the really good, under all their various names and circumstances. Some have much more light, intellectual and spiritual, than others ; but all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and follow Him faithfully, are of one religion ; and here is the point of real unity between military men, clergymen, and true Quakers — one Lord, one faith, one baptism. Whatever may be our position in life, whether in the counting-house, the shop, or the farm, or, like St. John, exposed to the temptations of the mess-room or the parade, there is no other way by which we can be kept out of evil. The world, the flesh and the devil meet us on all hands ; yet is there strength provided to resist all our enemies. This young soldier found it so, in reliance on the divine promise that those who ask shall receive. To Sarah Backhouse. Charterhouse Square, London, Ninth Month, 1852. I do not like to return home without acknowledging thy kind and welcome letter, which was forwarded to me at Walden, having left Hitchin after a pleasant tarriance of three weeks at my son James's. It was a great treat to me to re-visit the scene of my old school- days. It was matter of sincere thankfulness to see James and his dear wife settled down among such kind friends as they are surrounded by at Hitchin. The old friends, the widow [Ann] Lucas, and Samuel and Phebe Allen, are beautifully green in old age, and frequently give their friends lively communications in the ministry. It was quite delightful to me ; and I cannot help in- quiring, with a feeling of sadness, where are to be found their successors ? DEATH OF ANN LUCAS. 247 To his son James. York, ist of Third Month, 1853. Thy note, yesterday morning, relative to our dear old friend Ann Lucas, interested me very much ; and Elizabeth's note, just received, confirmed my anticipa- tions. What a sweet release from all pain and sorrow ! It may be truly said that she has fallen asleep in Jesus. What a blessed change from mortal sorrows to immortal joys ! I send you a little extract from one of Wesley's hymns which pleases me much : " I want a sober mind, A self-renouncing will, That tramples down and casts behind The baits of pleasing ill ; A soul inured to pain, To hardship, grief and loss. Bold to take up, firm to sustain, The consecrated cross." XXVIII. INCREASED ILLNESS— DEATH OF HIS SON HENRY. 1853—1855. ON the nth of Fourth Month, 1853, while conversing with a member of his family, and about to go into the town, Samuel Tuke was suddenly seized with unconsciousness, which lasted about a quarter of an hour. The immediate effects of this seizure gradually passed off, and there was not the loss of power which followed the apparently milder attack of 1849. At the same time it left him decidedly less equal to bodily and mental exertion. After this period he wrote but few letters. Hence, and owing to his withdi^awal from any active en- gagements, there exists little biographical material to mark the remainder of his life. He continued, until his health more completely gave way, to take interest in the subjects with which he had been accustomed to occupy his time and thoughts. Having been permitted to watch the progress of the Retreat nearly from the period of its original establishment, he felt a lively interest in the erection, about this time, of the new buildings, and frequently went to the spot while they were in progress. In 248 POWER OVER THE INSANE. 249 the summer of 1853 he resigned the office of treasurer, which he had held for more than thirty years, having succeeded his grandfather in 1822. During this period " his labours for the insane," as is observed in the Asylum younial, " were continuous and sustained — not spasmodic. In his bearing towards them there was a union of tenderness and power which was well calculated to restrain the actions of the excited, as well as to cheer the melancholy. His presence always inspired a certain amount of restraint. The expression of the eye, and the tone of the voice, were the outward indications which most powerfully told the force of mind and warmth of heart, which, in no ordinary degree, marked his character.'* Much as he felt his inability to pursue his former avocations (resume the editors), he was not only resigned, but was thankful for the blessings which he continued to possess. Of this period Sarah Backhouse writes : " In one of his last visits to Holgate he poured forth his soul in fervent prayer that, unworthy as he felt of the least of the Lord's mercies, he might be enabled in truth to say, 'Thy will be done.' He craved that all his sins might be forgiven for Jesus' sake ; that if anything separated between him and his God it might be removed ; that, clothed in the right- eousness of Christ, he might in the end be permitted an entrance into eternal blessedness." And she adds that on the last occasion on which she saw Samuel Tuke in his study, he remarked, in allusion to his failing powers : " I believe I have written my last note to thee. I believe that my pen 250 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. is for ever laid aside ; but I have been permitted to feel very quiet during the last few days — very quiet indeed, and with no desire for employment." Early in 1854 (ist of Second Month) Samuel Tuke had another attack, similar in character to that of the preceding year, but much more severe in its duration and effects. The constitution was greatly shattered by the force of the shock, and he was never afterwards able to go downstairs. During the greater portion of his illness he was able to hear and enjoy the reading of religious and other books. He had always been fond of poetry, and seemed to dwell upon some of his favourite hymns with peculiar pleasure. Addison's well- known hymn, beginning — " When all thy mercies, O my God," was one of these ; and, on one occasion, he particu- larly noticed the lines — " And when in sin and sorrow sunk, Revived my soul with grace " ; adding, "That is very beautiful, exquisitely beauti- ful." Montgomery's hymn on prayer was another which he much liked. In the I'eading of the Bible the portions which he seemed more particularly to delight in hearing were such Psalms as the 84th, " My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord" ; or the ii6th, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me ? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of SAMUEL TUKE'S SON HENRY. 251 the Lord " ; or such chapters as the 53rd of Isaiah ; and he was always much affected by those passages m the New Testament which speak of the great mercy of God, and of the wonderful condescension and compassion of our Saviour to poor fallen man. Samuel Tuke's eldest son, Henry, who had for several years been declining in health, died of con- sumption, on the 4th of Third Month, 1855. In youth Henry Tuke had manifested much of the waywardness of the natural mind ; and the corrupt tree brought forth evil fruits. Disappointed hopes and sickness were the means of " opening his ear to discipline." Those who watched the change wrought in him by divine grace, could say they found " no language to convey an adequate idea of it." The remaining years of his comparatively short course were a continual evidence that, having been for- given much, he loved much. In 1844 he accompanied William Forster in a religious visit in the North of France. Like Paul and Timothy, the veteran soldier and the young recruit were united in the close bonds of Christian love. When William Forster was about to leave England for his last visit to America, he wrote to Henry : Earlham Road, Norwich, Eight Month, 1853. Pray write me one more letter before I go, and think of me when I am far away, and now and then send me a few words. Thy last was very precious ; I intend to take it with me, it may help to comfort me, 252 • LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. and I shall often want to be comforted. . . . The thought of my voyage brings thy brother James [W.F.'s companion in Ireland during the famine] to my remem- brance with gratitude and love. It is too much to ■expect that I ever meet with such another friend. Give my best love to him, and to my dear and honoured friend, thy father. It is pleasant to think of the Christian fellowship I have enjoyed with him under the outpouring •of the divine anointing, as I have believed it to be richly vouchsafed to him from above. If at last through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ I am permitted to enter within the gates, it cheers my old heart to think of meeting him and thee too, my precious, tender child, where neither death, nor sin, nor any other thing will separate us one from the other, or from the presence of our Lord. Henry Tuke (we quote from the Annual Monitor for 1856) sometimes ministered to his friends in the meetings for worship. The scholars of the British School, and of the Friends' Boys' School, and the poor and afflicted, had a large share of his care and sympathy. A poor woman, being told of his death, said : " We have lost a kind friend. Many a basket of coals has he sent to our houses. He met me one day in the street, and said : ' Nurse, thou seems very cold, and thou hast no gloves,' and, do you know, he took a new pair from his own hands and made me put them on." But it was not their temporal good alone that he sought. His scripture readings, his words of consolation, and the warm sympathy of his loving spirit, cheered the fireside and the sick-bed of many a humble follower of their common Lord. The cause of Tem- perance was dear to him. He wrote some religious tracts, and was a diligent distributor, at the races, the assizes, and on other public occasions, of these little messengers. DEATH OF HENRY TUKE, JUNIOR. 255, " During the last three years of hishfe, when seldom able to leave his room, his sick chamber was often a scene of much mental activity — his bed strewn with books and tracts, and himself busily engaged in writing. When no longer equal to this fatigue, he employed an amanuensis, and from his bedside his messengers were often dispatched on errands of mercy which he could no longer perform in person. He was well read in Church history, not only in the records of our own Society, but in the general history of the Church from the earliest times, and more especially in the stirring narratives of the Reformation. Mercifully exempted from acute suffering, living closely on the confines of the unseen world, often per- mitted to realize his Saviour's presence, and trusting in his promise, " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no- wise cast out," — when the day of his departure came, death was disarmed of its sting, the grave had no victory. On the afternoon of First-day, after listening to the verse : " Poor though I am, despised, forgot, Yet God, my God, forsakes me not,'' he uttered, feebly but audibly, the words : " To God ■ — I commend — my spirit ! " Shortly afterwards the slender thread of life was severed ; his last Sabbath on earth was the prelude to an everlasting Sabbath in heaven. XXIX. CHARACTER— LAST DAYS. 1857. THE character of Samuel Tuke is drawn by the editors of the Memoirs with a loving, reveren- tial and discriminating hand. We proceed (they say) to make a few obser- vations on some traits of his character which have not been referred to in the Memoir. We do not here allude to his religious views, because his sentiments on the grand doctrines of Christianity, the fall of man, the atonement, the work of the Holy Spirit, etc., and on the distinguishing principles of the Society of Friends, have been already so fully ex- hibited. Any reader of his biography will have seen that his religious convictions were the groundwork of his whole life and conduct. He would, had he been called upon, have suffered for his opinions ; as Sydney Smith said : " In the days of the martyrs Mr. Tuke would have gone to the stake." His was a mind which inspired those who came in contact with it with the sense of the presence of power, power of that kind which it is impossible to convey an idea of to another by description. It is 234 CHARACTER. 255 very possible to repeat to others many remarks which such men utter, without being able to give any adequate impression of the influence which the same sentences produce when accompanied by the tone and manner peculiar to the individual himself. There are many things again which are not re- markable in themselves, and from an ordinary person would excite no interest or surprise, which, coining from some individuals, would at once be striking. The thought which he bestowed upon any subject of importance before expressing an opinion, the clearness with which such an opinion, when arrived at, was enunciated, the earnestness with which he spoke, the few yet admirably chosen words he employed, combined with a certain cau- tion which prevented any hasty utterance of his sentiments, rendered Samuel Tuke's conversation remarkable for its force, its interest, and often its lasting effect upon those with whom he associated. "The intelligence of his death," writes one who had known him, " brought to my recollection several long-passed conversations which have been deeply impressed, and the result of which at the time exerted, I am sure, a very considerable influence on my opinions. In particular, I well remember one in which, in consequence of my having quoted Carlyle's eulogy of George Fox, he took the pains to enter at some length into an ex- planation of the vast and fundamental difference between the creeds of the two. I was then a 256 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. mere boy ; indeed, I believe it was the first time I ever conversed with him. The result, 1 know, was that I laid Carlyle aside for several years ; and when I did resume him, it was with eyes well opened to the real principles which are concealed under so much in itself very attractive. In common, I am sure, with all who ever knew him, I have good reason gratefully to cherish the memory of Samuel Tuke." Still more than the particular words which he made use of, did his real greatness of character produce a deep impression upon all who came under its influence. Such mental constitutions have no tendency to descend to the level of those with whom they associate ; they elevate those around them, more or less, to their own height. It is true that on some sensitive timid minds, characters of great power like his exert at times a painful effect. Possibly there might seem, in the present instance, a fault in not allowing for the deficiency in others of that energy and firmness so native to himself. The pre- ponderance of the intellectual and the moral naturally produced this. Had his mind been differently formed, those who came within the circle of his influence would, doubtless, have felt less restraint. We enjoy playfulness ; we admire com- pleteness in detail. "Admiration," remarks one who knew him, " was perhaps the feeling (with the most entire unconsciousness on the part of the object) so frequently and habitually excited, that MENTAL CHARACTER. 257 there was not room, with some, for that kind of spontaneous love we feel for the mind, which, while it unconsciously elevates, allows us to repose." So much power of character renders it difficult to the possessor to avoid the exercise of authority ; and he appears to be more authoritative than he really intends to be. After remarking, one day, of his wife : " I never remember her speaking one ungentle word to me," Samuel Tuke added : " Her uncle Stephen told her I should wind her round my little finger. He thought she would be quite governed by me, and she was the gentlest person I ever knew ; but I believe in the end she had far more influence on me than I ever had on her, that is, she modified my character and views much more than / did hers. I had an idea that everything was to be done in a masterful way, just the reverse of her view ; but it had a great effect upon me, more especially after she was gone. I felt as if I had to act for her ; and though I dare say I have often seemed to act, and have acted, in the same kind of authoritative way, still I have felt very differently, have wished to act more as I think she would have done, with regard to children and servants and other things." " One evening," says his daughter Maria, " he had spoken to me strongly on a subject in which he rather mistook my motives. In the morning when I kissed him, he said, with tears in his eyes : ' My dear, I felt grieved that I wounded thee ! It is the 258 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. ruggedness of my nature ; I often regret it. Thou must forgive me ! ' " " As a young man," the same daughter remarks, "my father was thought conceited, I believe, by some, but this must have arisen from his really knowing what his own opinions were. Very early in life his mind was made up on various subjects, about which many men consider, and waver, or put off the consideration altogether until it is too late to decide. Conceited young men (as we thought them) were often favourites with him, provided their con- ceit was not the mere inflation of an empty head and heart. He admired anything like earnestness and decision of purpose. He must himself, when young, have possessed that earnest, serious view of life and its requirements which Arnold so deeply deplored the want of in the boys of his school." " My dear father," she says again, " instructed his children by conversations with them, in which he expressed his own views with a force and clear- ness which made a deep impression on their minds, and gave them a strong sense of his own earnest desire to attain the truth and his deep conviction of its value — rather than by personal addresses, or the enforcement of his views individually upon them ; although, if he noticed any leaning to what was unsound in principle or frivolous in taste, he did not fail to speak of it in private. Practical remarks, however, after reading, etc., mingled with more of direct exhortation (in which, with deep RIPENESS OF CHARACTER. 259 humility, he always included himself as needing to be stirred up to more diligence), were often made by him. This was especially the case at our First- day evening readings, when the whole household assembled, and we had what might truly be called a religious service, frequently ending in fervent prayer ' for all present, and for those near and dear to us, wherever scattered'; then thanksgiving for blessings temporal and spiritual, most humble acknowledg- ments and earnest desires, expressed often in the language of David, ' Our soul cleaveth unto the dust, quicken us, O Lord, according to thy word.' Surely we cannot forget these reverent, heartfelt, prayers." Speaking of the ripeness of Christian character and richness of Gospel service which marked the closing years of Samuel Tuke's life, John Hodgkin wrote : " How vividly do I recur to the growing spirituality and tenderness of his ministry, not at all to the lessening of its real intellectuality (if I may use this term in a qualified sense, in connec- tion with so sacred a gift) ; and then the impressive addresses at the Yearly Meeting on the state of the Society, which occasionally burst forth from his lips. It were impossible to give an adequate idea of them, and impossible to forget them. But I think sweetest of all to me is the remembrance of the spiritual greenness, brotherly tenderness to myself, and the humility which accompanied the earlier part of his decline of bodily power. Truly this last memory is 26o LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. like the odour of the myrtle, all the more fragrant because the leaf has been gently crushed." ^ Samuel Tuke had the habit of occasionally thinking aloud. When engaged in deep thought he would be long silent, even when walking with a friend, and then unconsciously say a few words, the significance of which not necessarily being apparent to his companion, to the question, " What did thou say, Samuel Tuke ? " would perhaps come the reply, "Ah ! did I speak ? It was only a thought thawing." Fifty years ago the query whether the necessities qf the poor were properly inspected and relieved was wont to be answered in York Monthly Meeting by the prosperous representatives of one congregation, in the terms, "We have no poor requiring relief, nor the children of such, education." " More's the pity, more's the pity," was the comment which the clerk of the Monthly Meeting (John Ford) heard Samuel Tuke murmuring to himself sotto voce? Of Samuel Tuke's last days on earth, say the editors of the Memoirs, there is not much to relate. He had become weaker and weaker, in consequence of a succession of attacks, partially apoplectic in their nature. Decided paralysis of one of the limbs sometimes succeeded these attacks, but in the course of a few weeks almost passed away, to be followed by a return of the seizure and loss of power. Greatly as this condition of the system affected his 1 Annual Monitor, 1858. 2 J. S. Rowntree, in the Friends' Quarterly Examiner. LAST HOURS. 261 memory and power of attention, he continued to bear a little reading ; and on the evening preceding the fatal attack, when the verse was read — " In Thee, my hiding-place divine, Be rest throughout life's jourrieyings given ; Then sweeter, holier rest be mine With Thee in heaven — " he repeated, though with difhculty, the last line, " With Thee in heaven." On the morning of the 12th of Tenth Month, 1857, a little after nine o'clock, he suddenly became unconscious. At first it appeared probable that, as before, the pressure under which the brain laboured might gradually be removed ; but the severity of the symptoms soon increased ; the profound sleep and the laboured breathing marked a greater lesion of the brain than had hitherto occurred, and rendered the result more than doubtful, notwithstanding the use of the usual medical means. Slowly the sands of life ebbed away, and about four o'clock on the morning of the 14th, surrounded by several members of his family, Samuel Tuke breathed his last. Thus after "long toiling" he reached the " blessed shore " of peace and safety. None could desire, when the shattered frame no longer permitted any further service, to defer his release from pain and suffering. Yet when the shore is really gained, how are we reminded of what we once possessed, and forced to the conclusion that 262 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. what was once so cherished can be ours no more, on this side the grave. But selfish thoughts must yield their place to higher ones, while we seek, though in sorrow, to follow the redeemed spirit into the presence of its Saviour, whom absent he adored and served, and whom not having seen he loved. He was seventy-three years of age. On the 2ist his remains were committed to the grave, in the presence of a great concourse of citizens and of friends from a distance. XXX. OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. FROM time to time Samuel Tuke committed to paper the thoughts which were passing in his mind, being often his mature reflections on subjects which much occupied him. Some of these thoughts are given below. I. — Religion. Man can do very well with religion as a science, with religion as a poetical imagination, or as a matter of taste ; but that plain religion which consists in the fear of God, which requires a man to deny himself and take up his cross and follow Christ, to look to Him as his only Saviour, and to walk as He walked in lowliness and out of the spirit of the world, that is the religion which man by nature has no relish for. 2. — True and False Religion. The great difference between all the forms of false religion and the true one is, that the former leave man unchanged, and build about and upon this unchanged nature ; whilst the latter changes man, and builds him up, step by step, in all the graces of which man is capable, upon that new foundation, which is neither more nor less than Jesus Christ. 2S3 264 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. J. — The two Religions, Christ's and the World's. The exclusion of self as the principle of action, I take to be the grand characteristic of true religion ; and every step in the work is opposed by nature, and is only to be attributed to divine grace. The religion of the world is quite a different thing ; it is founded upon self-grayfication. Interest and the desire of esteem may make men honest ; emulation or modified envy may promote use- ful acts ; and the desire of admiration and glory may animate us to devotion to the public cause. I say not that all these motives are to be extinguished ; but I do firmly believe they are not the principles and maxims upon which Jesus Christ established his religion : and, whatever these maxims may have produced (for they are powerful), whatever acts of charity and public utility, whatever abstinence from gross indulgences and apparent devotion to reason and morality, yet I firmly believe they will avail nothing in that day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, and all men shall be judged by Jesus Christ. To adopt the spirit and principles of even the better part of the world (in the sense in which our Lord uses the term) is not difficult ; to act with honour, spirit and general integrity, this we can do, and still be entirely worldly ; but to love God above all things, and so to believe in Jesus Christ as to live continually in his spirit, is the state to which a Christian must aspire, and the only one on which a well-grounded hope of future happiness can rest. 4. — Counterfeits of Truth. The most frequent and most successful mode of opposing a false opinion is to connect with it some cir- cumstances to which it bears some distinct resemblance, and on which the public mind is fully decided. The COUNTERFEITS OF TRUTH. 265 most frequent and most successful mode by which just sentiments are opposed, and virtuous practices are aspersed, is by a representation of them in their extreme effects, or in the garb in which some of their false friends have unhappily exhibited them. Thus those who would vilify religion talk much about hypocrisy, and the enemies of rational and Christian benevolence remind us of instances of romantic charity and pretended philanthropy. Virtue, like coin, is subject to be counter- feited ; but who will maintain that the value of either is lessened by a base imitation ? Yet it is certainly natural for counterfeits to excite suspicion, and those who have not sufficient knowledge of the genuine to detect easily the false, will be inclined to reject both as equally dangerous. Hence arises the success of the mode of attack which we have described ; but he who endeavours to confuse the distinction between truth and error, virtue and vice, is guilty of a crime similar to, and certainly not less offensive than, that of the man who defaces the coin of the realm that he may the more securely impose his counterfeits upon the world. Almost every good thing in the divine economy has its counterfeit, something which simulates it. It is ob- served in some cases in the natural kingdom, but abundantly more in the moral kingdom. The virtues have all their counterfeits ; and Satan has a series of base coins of his own, which so much affect or resemble the true, that he only whose eye has been and is kept open can detect the difference. The false, indeed, often look brighter to the natural eye, and are eagerly pursued by those who are not attracted by the true. 5. — Religion in Health and Sickness. That which we need for eternity is also ' profitable and needful for life. It is a miserable, and, in an incal- culable number of instances, a fatal notion, that one state 266 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. of mind befits health, and another sickness. There are doubtless distinguishing accompaniments, but the great features are the same, the same love of holiness and non-conformity to the world, and the same acquaint- ance with that transforming power by which alone the mind can be renewed to holy affections, and so raised to the lost image of the Divine Creator. 6. — Judaical Christianity. The contest for Judaical rites in the Christian Church, is as if a man were determined, when his house was built, to keep up the scaffolding — to be more careful of its preservation, than of the structure for the service of which it was erected. 7. — Christian Fundamentals. Holy Scripture tells of a covenant made with our first parents — of that covenant being broken — and announces a new covenant, the offer of divine mercy to man through Jesus Christ. This covenant and this Mediator are therefore the great subjects of Holy Scripture. Of Him bear all the prophets witness, and they speak largely of the fulness of that covenant which should be manifested in the latter days. The Evan- gelists announce that Mediator as come, and the fulness of that covenant as brought to men for their acceptance. To accept that covenant is, therefore, the great duty of man, and to bring men to it the great end of ministry. But without the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the Father, the Spirit of Christ, we can do nothing. The most clear comprehension of the system without this power would be wholly inefficacious to our salva- tion ; and he that knows this power, and has yielded to its drawing influences towards God, and from the spirit of the world, though he may have no clear conception RELIGION AND MORALITY. 267 of the mode of the divine economy in regard to the covenant, may, I firmly beUeve, be a true son of God,, having the spirit of adoption in his heart, by which he cries, with true fiUal affection, " Abba, Father." 8. — Religion and Morality. There is a strange propensity in men to divide their duties into two classes, viz., those of religion and those of morality. Now we are persuaded there is, in fact, no such division to be made. The duties which hang upon the second great commandment are no less binding, in a religious sense, than those which hang upon the first. They cannot indeed be severed. Such a division has ever been a striking feature of degeneracy in true religion. The binding nature of the moral law as laid down in Scripture, and manifested in the conscience, is strangely blinked and evaded in the ordinary transac- tions of life by men who appear to please themselves with the hope that they love God, and are anxious for the progress of His kingdom.^ Nor would we speak of these deflections as confined to men of trade. The evil spirit haunts, alas ! the men of so-called liberal professions ; and, being gifted with ubiquity, is found alike in the kitchen, the stable, the drawing-room and the senate. But it is said the family must be supported, and business cannot be carried on without some arts which are not strictly right. Admitting all this to be true, what then ? Is there any reason why a man should be willing to suffer all he can suffer, for the sake of what he calls his religious scruples, and not do the same rather than break the law of Divine Justice ? Shall a man refuse to swear because Christ has com- I One of the snares against which Samuel Tuke warned Friends was that of partnership with men whose standard of Christian duty was lower than their own. 268 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. manded him not to swear, and, at the same time, not hesitate to cheat and defraud his neighbour ? Shall he refuse the verbiage of flattery to his neighbour, and, at the same time, plan to circumvent him ? Shall he deny himself the pleasures of the theatre, or the ball-room, as dangerous amusements to his spiritual health (as indeed sthey are), and shall he at the same time bury himself in his counting-house, and devote all the energies of his mind and body to the mere accumu- lation of wealth ? We assuredly believe that it is to the full as much our duty to suffer, rather than break the divine law in its plain statements of truth and justice, as it would be our duty to suffer if we were now called upon to worship the images of idolaters, or the pretended conseci-ated bread of the Papists. 9. — Principles and Circumstances. In looking over the lives of men who are proposed to us in any degree as models, it is always desirable not to dwell so much on the particular acts of their history as on the great principles which appear to have been the moving springs of their whole conduct. It is quite possible that the acts may have belonged to the par- ticular period in which they were performed, and have been more of a circumstantial than universal character ; but the principles can hardly fail to be of universal application. 10. — On Prayer at Bible Meetings. Observing the subject of the introduction of prayer into the meetings of Bible Societies revived in a late number of the Record, and the objection of the Society of Friends to the stated performance of this act of worship again referred to, I incline to make a few re- marks on the subject. It will be admitted, I apprehend, that words stand in the same relation to prayer as signs do to things, and ON PRAYER AT BIBLE MEETINGS. 269 that in private prayer words are not essential. Now why is it that we can pray in private without words ? but because God holdeth intercourse with the heart. And why is it that we use words ? but that it is designed that all the Lord's works should praise Him. And, surely, the tongue of man is not to be excepted. Be- sides, we allow that in the expression of our devout affections and desires, there is a reaction upon the heart which still more warms and invigorates it with the sense of its needs, and of the Divine power and good- ness. We do not, therefore, object to the vocal utter- ance of our wants and desires before God. But we do object to the expression, even to men, and much more to God, of that which is not felt ; and we encourage all to wait to know their hearts to be really prostrated be- fore Him, to feel their wants before they attempt to express them, and to express no more than they feel. And we believe it is because so much stress is laid upon the sign, and it is deemed to be so much a matter of course that the right spirit will attend it, that prayer is often so unfruitful. It is not the assent of the mind to the words of a precomposed or spontaneous prayer, which we conceive to constitute true prayer. To be availing, we believe it must spring from a much deeper source, and that it is of infinitely more importance to find this source, whether in connection with our own wants or those of others, than to utter what may be deemed to be the best words, at the best time, and in the best manner. " Mistake it not," says Archbishop Leighton, " the spirit of prayer hath not its seat in the invention, but in the affection." We do not doubt that many citizens of heaven, whose proper idiom is prayer, find the spirit accom- panying their forms ; but from the memoirs of some of these, we find them at times complaining of the want of life in their devotions, and of the mind wandering frorrk 270 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. the expressions of the Ups. We judge not those who, sensible of their want of life, use the form of words, or words without form. He who seeth their hearts, and Icnoweth their sincerity, judgeth not as man judgeth ; but we do believe that it is our duty, under such feel- ings, rather to seek to fix the mind on God ; and then, if nothing more can be attained than the desire that we may be quickened, such an aspiration, with the deep accompanying sense of our unworthiness, may be a more effectual prayer than the finest liturgy. II. — Forcing Conscience. Whatever heresies are to be deplored in the history of the church, there is not one over which the Christian has more cause to weep than the doctrine that one man has a right to enforce the conscience of another. If we <;ould call up in array before us all the misery and crime — the dungeons, the racks, the gibbets, the fires, the massacres, the wars — which have sprung from, or have "been the accompaniment of, this one doctrine, the world would surely, with one accord, pronounce the domination of man over conscience the most accursed and fanatical heresy which the lusts of men and the in- genuity of Satan have ever been permitted to bring forth. 12. — Purity of Intention. The Lord knows when the heart is really bent on his service in humility and fear ; and though He may not see fit to enlighten the understanding fully as to the best means. He brings it to the right end. He knows the heart, and his mercy, no less than his wisdom, runs strangely devious from our dogmatic systems. i^.^^Variety of Divine Dealings. We do not sufficiently recognize the variety in the divine dealings, either in regard to individuals, or the VARIETY OF DIVINE DEALINGS. 271 agents, which at various periods of the church are sent forth in its service. We prescribe far too much the course of individual experience, and, hke a Dutch gardener, will not allow a man to reach the fountain, unless he pass by the angles and through the avenues of our theological dogmas. Were our sight enlarged by further touches of the divine finger, we should pro- bably see how utterly insufficient are the lines and squares of our system to embrace the varieties in the divine course, and the infinite amplitude of the re- sources of God's wisdom and mercy. If surprise be permitted as one of the feelings of the ransomed in Heaven, there may probably be no ground for it so powerful, as the conviction of how narrow have been our conceptions of the divine ways. 14. — Covetousness. The leprosy of wealth, the love of riches, is upon us, and we would fain reconcile our uncleanness with admission into the temple. 1$. — Modern Literature. The present supply of literature has a great tendency to diminish the appetite for, and the real search after, knowledge. Even the bee, it is said, gives over collecting when it finds there is no winter. Know- ledge is now served up in made dishes ; and it is so pushed upon men at every turn, that they are ever tasting, and so rarely, come to that healthy appetite and vigorous search which strengthen the intellectual muscles. 16. — One Thing Needful. Whatever may be our age or circumstances, there is no object of equal importance to that of the right employment of the present time. We may too much regret the past, and be too anxious for the future, but we can 272 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. hardly be too much in earnest to use aright the present moment. When we have passed many years, how often do we find ourselves in circumstances of trial and difficulty, which we trace with a bitter but unavailing regret to our misuse of our past time, and the neglect of opportunities of profit which have been afforded to us. I am persuaded it is no ways necessary that we should thus always be, as it were, bankrupt in every past year's accounts, and I would gladly, if I might be enabled, benefit my dear children by what I have either suffered or enjoyed, in regard to the use of the present time. Time being the stuff which life is made of, and life having a great variety of wants, the right employ- ment of time must have reference to an equal variety of provisions and engagements. There is one, however, which is paramount to all, and that is the provision for the needs of an eternal life. In reference to this our Lord said, with a propriety which even reason must admit, though it never by itself acts upon it : " One thing is needful " ; and also : " The life is more than meat." There is nothing which the body, or the mind either, can want in this brief state of being which can for a moment be put in comparison with the least cir- cumstance which belongs to an eternal state. It is the highest interest of our intellectual and bodily parts, to seek first, and to give up all for the kingdom of heaven. What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, all its wealth, all its knowledge, all its praise, if he lose the eternal rest of his soul ? The securing of this rest is, therefore, the one great business of every man. To it every other object should be subordinate in the fullest sense, not as claiming merely a higher point in the scale of necessary things, but as the " one thing needful." It may be that all worldly prosperity, and even life, may have to be given up for it ; or the pursuits of a man's life may have to be thrown into quite a different channel ONE THING NEEDFUL. 273 to that which he had planned and desired ; but it will be found that they who truly seek first the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness shall not want anything which is really good for them. Though these have been often permitted to be trodden under foot by the men of this world, as the off-scouring of all things, and their faith has been tried by all manner of privations and cruelties, yet, in the ordinary course of the divine dealings, the promise has been literally fulfilled : that He who provides for the ravens and beautifies the grass of the field will provide what is needful for the bodily wants of his children, for He knoweth that they have need of these things. I have frequently seen this strikingly realized, and I have observed what a sensible effect the pursuit of the one great object has in develop- ing, refining, and strengthening the intellectual character of those who are engaged in it. This is not its object, and the character, after all, will be very far from being to the taste of the idolaters of talent and genius in the world ; but the increase of mental power will be too evident, even when fully tried by the ordinary tests, to be denied, and it will be found that godliness is truly profitable for all things. 17. — Peace in Christ. " Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you ; not as the world giveth, give I unto you." — John xiv. 27. Peace of mind is the true object of human search. It is the philosopher's stone which can transmute the greatest of earthly ills into the golden opportunities of enjoyment. It makes light the heavy chain of human oppression ; with it the rack ceases to be torture ; it raises the voice of rejoicing in the flamps of martyrdom. Peace of mind is not limited to place, or restricted by circumstance. It is sought for in vain in external 274 LIFE OF SAMUEL TUKE. objects. Ambition cannot reach it. Wealth cannot buy it. Friendship cannot give it. Philosophy cannot discover it. The secret of true peace is hid in one word, and that word is Christ. He that has found Him has found the peace which passeth all understanding, and the treasures of true wisdom and knowledge ; and whilst hidden from the merely wise and great of this world, the fool and the wayfaring man seek Him not in vain. SAMUEL AND PRISCILLA TUKE HAD TWELVE CHILDREN. Hannah. — Married George, son of Isaac and Martha Mennell of Scarborough, Eighth Month 27th, 1834 ; died Third Month 19th, 1869. Henry.— Died Third Month 4th, 1855. Maria. — Married Joseph Savory (M.D.), son of Henry and Mary Tylor of London, Fourth Month 17th, 1850 ; died Eleventh Month 13th, 1883. Sarah. — Died First Month 2nd, 1832. Priscilla. — Married Edward Capper, son of Thomas and Ann Robson of Sunderland, Fourth Month iSth, 1852 ; died Tenth Month 23rd, 1879. Gulielma. — Married Edward, son of Thomas and Elizabeth Richardson of Sunderland, Twelfth Month 13th, 1843 ; died Second Month ist, 1888. James Hack. — Married Elizabeth, daughter of Edmund and Elizabeth Janson of Tottenham, Eighth Month 3rd, 1848 ; and (secondly) Georgina Mary, daughter of Evory Kennedy of Dublin, Eleventh Month 9th, 1882 ; died First Month 12th, 1896. Elizabeth. — Married George Stacey, son of Wyatt George and Deborah Gibson of Saffron Walden, Twelfth Month i6th, 1845 ; died Third Month 6th, 1890. William Murray. — Married Emma, daughter of Caleb and Mary WiUiams of York, Fifth Month 14th, 1846. Esther. Samuel. — Died Tenth Month 14th, 1829. Daniel Hack (M.D.). — Married Esther Maria, daughter of Joseph and Eliza Stickney of Ridgmont, Holderness, Eighth Month loth, 1853 ; died Third Month 5th, 1895. 27s INDEX TO NAMES. Ackworth School, 8, 28, 43 Acomb, 100 Adam's Private Thoughts, 228 Addison, 250 Alderson, William, 164 Alexander, Ann, 9, 10, 78 Allen, Oswald, 220 Allen, Samuel, 246 Allen, William, 38, 101, 125, 153. 158 Anderson's Annals, 181 Armagh, 180 Arnold, Dr., 241, 258 Arundel, 37 Ash, Dr., 125, 131, 133 Austria, 197 Backhouse, Deborah, 78 Backhouse, James, 84 Backhouse, Sarah, 249 Barbary, 195 Barclay, A. R., 156 Barclay, Robert, 121 Bawtry, 18 Baxter, igo Bedford, Peter, 125 Belcombe, Dr., 59 Belgium, 154 Bewley, Joseph, 180 BicStre, 13, 82 Binns, Thomas, 89 Blaxland, George, 28 Boehmen, 230 Braithwaite, J. B., 241 Brentford, 81 Brookfield, 170 Brougham, Lord, 76 Brown, G., 46 Brown, Joseph, 76 Buchanan, Dr., 43 Bunyan, 190 Burrough, Edward, 157 Carey, Eustace, 109 Carlyle, 255 Charenton, 82 Charles I., 188 Charles II., 220 Charlotte, Princess, 220 Chichester, 33, 35, 38, 103 Christy, Thomas, 96 Churchman, John, 28 Clifford's Tower, York, 75 Clonmel, 9 Coleridge, 152, 190 Colman, 222 ConoUy, Dr., 52 Corder, Susanna, 89, 100 Crewdson, Isaac, 116, 132 Crichton, Dr., 59 Crisp, Stephen, 82, 234 Cromwell, 188 Crook, 96 Cudworth, 63 Defoe, 190 Deighton Cottage, 71 Delarive, Dr., 12 Dickenson, Barnard, 125 277 278 INDEX TO NAMES. Doncaster, 18 Borland, Reuben, 237 Dublin, 180 Ecroyd, Benjamin, 98 Edison, G., 35 Elizabeth, Queen, 26 Ellerby, 15 Esquirol, Dr., 81 Finland, 174 Fleetwood, Gen., go Fletcher, Martha, 44 Flower, W., 67 Ford, John, 166, 260 Forster, Josiah, 92, 125, 233 Forster, William, 39, 44, 69, 92, 125, 183, 225, 230, 233, 251 Forster, William Edward, 89 Foster, John, 30 France, 197 Francis I., 197 Fry, Sir Edward, 184 Fry, Elizabeth, 64, 153 Germany, 50 Gibson, George and Elizabeth, 222 Glasgow, 52 Glossop, 149 Grange, 180 Grayrigg, 97 Greece, 174 Grellet, Stephen, 45 Griffith, John, 5 Griscom, 68 Grubb, Sarah R., 9, 17, 222 Gurney, Joseph John, 125, 131, 133, 195, 240 Hack, Hannah, 35 Hack, James, 33, 44, 127 Hack, Maria, 143 Hack, Priscilla, 134 Hack, Rhoda, i'27 Hamilton, 193 Hanwell, 52, 165 Harvey, William, 185 Hastings, loi Hicks, Elias, 118 Hinduism, 109 Hipsley, John, 11. 98 Hipsley, Mabel, n Hitchin, 28, 79, 246 Hodgson, William, jun., 160 Hodgkin, Dr., loi Hodgkin, John, 34, 259 Hornsea, 219 Howard, Robert, 138 Huddersfield, 149! Hudson, 193 Hull, 33 Iceland, 174 India, 43, 109 Ireland, 170, 179 Italy, 174 acobi. Dr., 163 epson, George, 41, 59 epson, Katharine, 49, 60 ohnson, Dr., 227 ones, Rebecca, 7 Kendal, 97 Kilham, Hannah, 219 Knaresborough, 44 Kohl, J. G., 164 Lancashire, 119, 125 Lascelles, 3;^ Leeds, 35, 61 Leighton, Archbishop, 90 London, 38, 50, 80 Louis Philippe, 197 Lucas, Ann, 246 Lucas, Margaret, 219 Macaulay, 220 Macknight, 222 Malvern Hills, 160 Manchester, 119' Mariotti, 198 Marriage, Joseph, 125 Marsden, 244 Marsk, 87 Martyn, Henry, 102 Maryport, 239 Maurice, 223 INDEX TO NAMES. 279 Mennell, Henry Tuke, 177, ig8 Metternich, 197 Mildred's Court, 64 Milton, 26, loi Milton, Lord, 33 Mitivi6, Dr., 81 Moira, 170 Montgomery, 64, 75, 250 Mosedale, 96 Murray, Lindley, 8, 56, 73 Myers, 191 Neander, 230 Needham Market, 10 Newcastle. 30, 64, 213 Newgate, 64 Newman, Mr., 99 Newry, 180 Nicholas, Grand Duke, 59 Nicolay, Baron, 59 Norris, 190 Norway, 174 Norwich, 18 Owen, Robert, 190 Paris, 13, Si, 8i, 94 Pease, Edward, 125 Peel, Sir Robert, 236 Penn, William, 18, i^;}, 227, 234 Penrith, 43, 95 Philadelphia, 48 Pike, Jonathan, 180 Pim, Jonathan, 185, 187 Pinel, 12, 13, 52 Pitt, 31 Pollock, Sir Frederick, 76 Preston Patrick, 97 Priestman, Esther, 209, 217, 220 Priestman, Thomas, 17 Puritans, 223 Radcliffe, Mrs., 43 Richardson, Edward, 212, 239 Richardson, George, 125 Richardson, Hannah, 73 Richardson, John, 170 Roans, 178 Rochester, 81, 166 Rome, 174 Rowntree, John S., 99, 116, 166, 216 Rowntree, Joseph, 170, 216 Russia, 50 St. John, Lieut., 245' Salisbury, 35 Salpetriere, 81 Sanderson, Mary, 64 Scarlett, Sir James, 76 Scott, Barbara, 20 Scott, Mary Maria, 11, 18 Scougal, 151 Seebohm, Benjamin, 244 Serle, 227 Shannon, William, 171 Sheffield, 18 Shelley, 190 Sidmouth, Lord, 66 Smith, John, 190 Smith, Sydney, 48, 254 Sowerby, 15 Spurzheim, Dr., 63 Stacey, George, 125 Stephenson, Isaac, 180 Stoke Newington, 89, 100, 165 Suir Island School, 9 Switzerland, 50 Taylor, Joseph, 44 Terril, 96 Thirsk, 64 Thorpe, A., 67 Tottenham, 39, 89 Tuke, Daniel H., 13, 29, 52, 86, 240 Tuke, Esther, 6, 19 Tuke, Esther, jun., 178, 240 Tuke, Gulielma, 178 Tuke, Haniiah, 70, 80, 87 Tuke, Henry, 14-20, 31, 44, 53, 72, 80, 87, 216 Tuke, Henry, jun., 131, 136, 178, 189, 194, 251 Tuke, James Hack, loi, 178, 183, 187, 251 Tuke, Maria, 87, 208, 217 28o INDEX TO NAMES. Tuke, Maria, jun., 35, 89 Tuke, Mary Maria, 19, 21, 31, 54 Tuke, Priscilla, 46, 86, 240, 257 Tuke, Samuel (son), 87, 91 Tuke, Sarah, 70, 87, 89, 100 Tuke, William, 1-13, 44, 52, 68, 72, ■]•], 99 Tuke, William Murray, 178 Tylor, Joseph Savory, 239 Tylor, Maria, 76 Ulster, 179 United States, 50 Upton, 64 Vatican, 174 Ventriss, Jane, 218 Warmsworth, 19 Warthill, 178 Wasey, Joseph, 195 Wesley, John, 235 Wheeler, Daniel, 106 Wheeler, Elizabeth, 9, 18, 28 Whitefield, 151 Whitehead, George, 93, 234 Wilberforce, 31 Wilkinson, John, 130, 135 Wilkinson, Thomas, 43, 95 Wooldale, 150 Woolman, John, 16 Yanwath, 43, 96 York Asylum, 51, 68 Zetland, Earl, 112 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. Ackworth School, 28, 166 America, condition of Friends in, i6i, 237 Atonement, the, 145 Baptism, 144 Beacon controversy, the, ii8 Bible Society, the, 45 Books for the people, 57 Children, convictions of the Holy Spirit in, 23, 28 Cholera, 106 Christian Communion, 44, 233 Christianity, better understood now than in the 2nd and 3rd centuries, 194 Christianity, the only basis of true liberty, 200 Christmas Day, observance of, 44 Church discipline (see Friends) Church History, how to be written, 233 Church imposition, 155 Church, the, character of in a healthy condition, 139, 202 Church, the, must follow Christ, 93 Conscience, on forcmg, 270 Conversation, religious, 6 Craniology, 63 Dealings, Divine, variety of, 270 Death-bed narratives, 159 Disciple ship, terms of, 6i Discipline, Divine, necessity of Dogmatism, 119 Dress, peculiarity in, 19 Duty, the pleasant path of, 141 Early Friends, character of the, 143, 19s, 231 Early Friends, the true suc- cessors of the, 226 Early Friends, writings of, 82, t6i, 231 Education, its work and object, 167 Elections, Parliamentary, 31, 33 Falsehood, fatal to the Gospel, 202 Fine Arts, the, 172 Friends, Church discipline of, 223 Friends, controversial worlcs of, 161 Friends' Educational Society, 166 Friends in the country and in towns, 96 Friends, numerical decrease of, 229, 243 Friends' Provident Institution, 98 Friends, Society of, 2, 4, 117 Friends' Schools, York, 7, 166 Fundamentals, Christian, 266 282 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. Gifts of the Spirit, free exercise of, 8s Gospel, misuse of the term, 147 Government, place of, in the divine economy, 201 Grace, ig2 Heaven, the kingdom of, within us, 206 Hinduism, 109 Holy Spirit, intercourse with the soul, 44, 63 Household, character of Samuel Tuke's, 178 Humility, 40, 92 Inquirers, 'effect of deadness in the church upon, no, 140 Insane Asylums, 14, 41, 51, 163, 249 Inward Light, the, 144, igi Intention, purity of, 270 Ireland, condition of, 180 Ireland's misery, cause of, 182, 188 Irish, plea for the, 185 Irish, fever-stricken in York, 187 Judaical Christianity, 266 Justification by faith, 136 Knowledge, itinerary of, 91 Laudism, 155 Law, 201 Liberty of the Spirit, 105 Liberty, the true principles of, 199 Love, the gate to knowledge, 189 Machinery in spiritual matters, 108 Marriage state, the true bliss of the, 205 Means, on the use of, in pro- moting religion, 56, 58 Methodists, system of the, 84 Ministry, Gospel, 78, 92, 123 Missions to the heathen, 107 Modern literature, 271 Moral principle the foundation of political reform, 113 Mystics, 151, 230 Nature and Grace, 191 New Year, thoughts suggested by the, 39, 62 Obedience, fruit of, 59 Old Testament, on the inspira- tion of the, 222 One thing needful, 271 Overseers in the Church, duties of, 84 Parents, duties of, 167 Peace only in Christ, 273 Perfection, doctrine of, 215 Pilgrim Fathers, persecution by the, 160 Prayer, 58 Prayer at Bible Meetings, 269 Preaching the truth, possible effects of, 154 Principles and circumstances, '268 Procrastination, 62 Protestant, an honoured name, 242 Providence, 191 Railway mania, the, 193 Reformation, fruits of the, 242 Religion, indispensable to so- ciety and government, 94, 156 Religion and morality, 267 Religion, the true, 263, 264 Religious controversy, 119 Revolutions, political, on, 197 Romances, injurious tendency of. 43 School, Labour, at Brookfield, 170 Scripture, on the right under- standing of, 129 Scripture the test of doctrine, 130, 134 Self-examination, 30, 62 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 283 Self, insidiousness of, 148 Sin the same in all degrees of men, 190 Social evils, on the true cure of, 199, 235 Stage coach travelling, 38, 83, - 89 Sunday railway traffic, 153 Supper, the, 144, 233 Teachers, qualifications of, 167 Temptation, right conduct un- der, 40 Variety in the Church consis- tent with unity, 1O4, 121, 234 War, 69, 193, 197 Wealth, unhallowed pursuit of, 193, 271 World, the, how to be regene- rated,. 159 Worship, 146 Worship, the Fine Arts in rela- tion to, 17s Yearly Meeting, Women's, 7 THE LITERARY WORLD says: "We can conceive of no greater or better service tliat can be rendered to tlie present contention for Reformation principles, and deeds, than the reading of this ' Story of William Tyndale,' and Mr. Tylor's little book on John Wycllffe. He knows how to write a thoroughly good book, and succeeds in doing it." WILLIAM TYNDALE : THE TRANSLATOR OF THE ENGLISH BIBLE. By CHARLES TYLOR (Author of "Early Church History," &c.)- Crown 8vo, Popular Edition : Portrait only^ Paper Boards^ ij- Illustrated Edition : Cloth Gilt^ 2\6 net. "Gives in a lucid and comprehensive form the main incidents in Tyndale's strenuous career.'' — Independent. " The story of the great Bible translator's life is told in graphic fashion, and the framework of contemporary life and manners is skilfully sketched." — Methodist Recorder. "This is an admirable account of the life and work of William Tyndale, the translator of the English Bible. It is just the book to put in our Sunday school libraries." — Methodist Times. BY THE SAME AUTHOR AND UNIFORM WITH ABOVE. JOHN WYCLIFFE: A MEMORIAL ; OR TARES AND WHEAT. Crown 8vo. Popular Edition : Portrait only, Paper Boards, 6d. net. ir-'^-ated Edition: Cloth Gilt, Six Plates, 2/- net. "An admirable biography." — Christian Leader. "An interesting sketch." — Spectator. " Particularly adapted to the young." — Baptist. " Eminently readable and useful book." — The Cliristian. "This admirable sketch." — Christian World. •' Ought to be found and often read in every English home J '—Leeds Mercury, " The whole work is one that we cordiatly commend."— Methodist limes. LONDON : HEADLEY BROTHERS, 14, BISHOPSGATE STREET WITHOUT, E.G.