Columbia Umbersttp I inli)eCttpofi£eto§*ork LIBRARY This book is due two weeks from the last date stamped below, and if not returned or renewed at or before that time a fine of five cents a da}' will be incurred. - - •■ NOV 2 4 193! • MAR 2 8 $34 X$< "*»»»«* . a42fafi"> A PORTRAITURE of QUAKERISM. TAKEN FROM A VIEW OF THE EDUCATION AND DISCIPLINE, SOCIAL MANNERS, CIVIL AND POLITICAL ECONOMY, RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLES AND CHARACTER, OF THE J>cricrp of f rtentJ^ Br THOMAS CLARKSON, M. A. AUTHOR OF SEVERAL ESSAYS ON THE SLAVE TRADE. VOL. I. 3£cttKCodu PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL STANSBURY, NO. Ill, WATER-STREET. 18C6. JODTHWICK AND HARDCASTiE, PRINTERS. b CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. Introduction, page ill Prefatory Arrangements and Remarks, p. . xxvii MORAL EDUCATION. CHAPTER I. Amusements distinguishable into useful and hurtful — the latter specif ed and forbidden, p 35 CHAPTER II. Sect. i. — Games of chance forbidden — history of the origin of some of these, 39 Sect. ii. — Forbidden as beloxv the dignity of the intellect of man, and of his christian character, p 44 Sect, m.-— As producing an excitement of the passions, un- favourable to religious impressions — historical anecdotes of this excitement, p 4 7 Sect. iv. — As tending to produce, by the introduction of ha- bits of gaming, an alteration in the moral character, p. 55 CHAPTER III. Sect. i. — Music forbidden — instrumental innocent in itself but greatly abused — the use of it almost inseparable from its abuse at the present day, p 59 Sect. ii. — Quakers cannot learn instrumental on the usual motives of the "world — nor consider it as a source of moral dt X J ?j f h iV CONTENTS. improvemrrt. or of solid comfort to the mind — but are fear* fulthat, ij indulgediris it would- interfere with the Christian duty of religious retirement, p 64 Sect. Hi. — ^Quakers canrot learn vocal, because, on account of its u. ti< motive powers, it is capable of becoming oeiri- tnental to man /■-> — its tendency to this, as ai coverable by an analysis t of different 'vhssis of songs, p* .... C9 S£cT. iv — The preceding the arguments of the early Qua- ker::-— but the r.exv state of music has produced other- — these explained, p 75 Sect. v. — An objection stated to the different arguments of the Quakers on this subject — their reply, p 79 CHAPTER IV. Sect. i. — The Theatre forbidden — hori history of its origin — and of its state and progre ?, £ 83 Sect. ii. — Manner of the. drama, chjectedto by the Quakers — as it personates the characters of others — and as it professes to reform vice, p 89 Sf.ct. hi. — Contents of the drama objected to — as they hold out fake sentiments — and xveaken the sinews cf moral* ity, p &2 Sect. iv. — Theatre considered by the "Quakers to be injurious to the happiness of man, as it a s him for the plea- sures of religion, p 97 Sect. v. — To be injurious to the happiness of ruin, as it dis- qualifies him for domestic enjoyments, p. ... 101 Sect. vi. — Opinions of the early Christians on this sub- ject,p 106 CHAPTER V. Sect, i Dancing forbidden — light in which this subject has been viewed both by the ancients and the moderns — fakers principally object to it, where it is connected with public as- semblie- — they conceive it productive, in this case, of a fri- volous levity, and of an excitement of many of the evil pas- ■titans, p. . * 1Ji CONTENTS. V Sect. ii. — These arguments of the ^takers, on dancing, ex- amined in three supposed cases put to a moral philoso- pher, p 1 1 6 Sect. hi. — These arguments farther elucidated by a display of the JBull-rooom, p 122 CHAPTER VI. Novels forbidden — considered by the Quakers as producing art affectation of knozvkdge — a romantic spirit — and a pervert- ed morality, p. 129 CHAPTER VII. Sect. i. — Diversions of the field forbidden — general thought- lessness upon tiiis subject — sentiments of some of our best poets — law of the Quakers concerning it, p. . . 137 Sect. ii. — Consistency of this law exam hied by the moralitu, which is inculcated by the Old Testament, p, . . 143 Sect. hi. — Examined by the morality of the New — these em- ployments, if resorted to as diversion?., pronounced, in both cases, to be a breach of a moral law, p 149 CHAPTER VIII. Objections to the preceding system, xvhich includes these differ- ent prohibitions, as a system of moral education, p. . 154 CHAPTER IX. Sect. i. — Reply of the Quakers to these objections, p. 161 Sect. ii. — Farther reply of the Qita&ers on the same sub- ject^ 167 DISCIPLINE. CHAPTER I. Sect. i. — Outlines of the discipline of the Quakers, p. 175 Sf.ct. ii. — Manner of the administration of this discipline, 184 vi CONTENTS. Sect. hi. — Charges usually brought against the administra- tion of it — observations in answer to these charges, p. 190 Sect. iv. — The principles of this discipline applicable to the discipline of larger societies, or to the criminal codes of states — beautif id example in Pennsylvania, p. . - 195 CHAPTER II. Monthly court or meeting of the Quakers for the purposes of their discipline — nature and manner of the business trans- acted there, p „205 CHAPTER III. Quarterly court or meeting for the same purposes-filature and manner of the business there, p 21 & CHAPTER IV. Annual court or meeting for tlie same purposes — nature and manner of the business there —striking peculiarities in this manner— character of this discipline or government, p. 221 CHAPTER V. Excommunication or disowning — nature of disowning as a punishment, p 236 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. CHAPTER I. Sect. i. — Dress — extravagance of the dress of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries — plain manner in which the grave and religious were then habited — the Quakers sprang out of these, p 241 Sect. n. — Quakers carried ivith them their plain dresses into their neiv society — extravagance of the world continuing, they defined the objects of dress as a Christian people — at length incorporated it into their discipline — hence their pre- sent dress is only a less deviation from that of their ances- tors, than that of other people, p. . . . 249 CONTENTS. vii Sect, hi.— Objections of the world to the Qiutker-dresi these examined — a comparison between the language of Quakerism and of Christianity on this subject — opinion of the early Christians upon it, p. . . . 257" CHAPTER II. Furniture — the Qiiakers use plain furniture — reasons for their singularities in this respect, p. . . 268 CHAPTER III. Sect. i. — Language — Qiiakers have altered the connnon lan- guage — sub.Aitution of Thou for Tou — reasons for this change — opinions of many learned men concerning it, 273 Sect. ii. — Various other alterations made — as in titles of ad- dress — and of honour — reasons for these changes, p. 285 Sect. hi. — Another alteration — as in the names of the days and the month.. — reasons fir this change — various neiv phrases also introduced, p. .... 291 Sect. iv. — Objections by the world against the alteration of Thou fur Tou, p. . . . ... 296 Sect. v. — Against that of titles of address and honour, 300 Sect. vi. — Against that of the names of the days and months, p. . . . . . . . 309 Sect. vii. — Advantages and disadvantages of these alterations by the Quaker language, p. . . . . 314 CHAPTER IV. Address — common personal gestures or worldly ceremonies of address forbidden — no exception in favour cf royalty — reasons against the disuse of these, p. . . 320 CHAPTER V. ■Manners and conversation — hospitality and freedom in Qua- kers' houses — their conversation more limited than that of others — subjects of conversation examined in our towns — and in the metropolis — extraordinary circumstance that takes place occasionally in the company of the Quakers, p. 328 viii CONTENTS, CHAPTER VI- Customs before meah — ancients made an oblation to Vesta— moderns have substituted grace — account of a Quaker- grace, p* ....... 342 CHAPTER VII. Customs' at and after meals — Qtiakers never drink healths or toasts — various reasons for their disuse of these customs — and seldom allow women to retire after dinner and leave the men drinking — Quakers a sober people, p> . - 350 INTRODUCTION. MOTIVES FOR THE UNDERTAKING— ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF QUAKERS — GEORGE FOX, THE FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY — SHORT HISTORY OF HIS LIFE. Jf ROM the year 1787, when I began to devote my labours to the abolition of the slave trade, I was thrown frequently into the company of the people, called Quakers. These people had been then long unanimous upon this subject. Indeed they had plac- ed it among the articles of their religious discipline. Their houses were of course open to me in all parts of the kingdom. Hence I came to a knowledge of their living manners, which no other person, who was not a Quaker, could have easily obtained. As soon as I became possessed of this knowledge, or at least of so much of it, as to feel that it was con- siderable, I conceived a desire of writing their moral \ j i INTRODUCTION. history. I believed I should be able to exhibit to the rest of the world many excellent customs, of which they were ignorant, but which it might be useful to them to know. I believed too, that I should be af- fording to the Quakers themselves, some lessons of utility, by letting them see, as it were in a glass, the reflection of their own images. I felt also a great de- sire, amidst these considerations, to do them justice ; for ignorance and prejudice had invented many ex- pressions concerning them, to the detriment of their character, which their conduct never gave me reason to suppose, during all my intercourse with them, to be true. Nor was I without the belief, that such a history might afford entertainment to many. The Quakers, as every body knows, differ more than even many fo- reigners do, from their own countrymen. They adopt a singular mode of language. Their domestic customs are peculiar. They have renounced religious ceremonies, which all other christians, in some form or other, have retained. They are distinguished from all the other islanders by their dress. These differ- ences are great and striking. And I thought therefore that those, who were curious in the developcment of character, might be gratified in knowing the princi- ples, which produced such numerous exceptions from the general practices of the world. INTRODUCTION. tti But though I had conceived from the operation of these sentiments upon my mind, as long ago as I have stated, a strong desire to write the moral history of the Quakers, yet my incessant occupations on the sub ject of the slave-trade, and indisposition of body after- wards, in consequence of the great mental exertions necessary in such a cause, prevented me from attempt- ing my design. At length these causes of prevention ceased. But when, after this, the subject recurred, I did not seem to have the industry and perseverance, though I had still the inclination left, for the under- taking. Time, however, continued to steal on, till at length I began to be apprehensive, but more parti- cularly within the last two years, that, if I were to de- lay my work much longer, I might not live to begin it at all. This consideration operated upon me. But I was forcibly struck by another, namely, that, if I were not to put my hand to the task, the Quakers would probably continue to be as little known to their fellow-citizens, as they are at present. For I did not see who was ever to give a full and satisfactory ac- count of them. It is true indeed, that there are works, written by Quakers, from which a certain portion of their history, and an abstract of their religious princi- ples, might be collected ; but none, from whence their living manners could be taken. It is true also that others, of other religious denominations, have written iv INTRODUCTION. concerning them ; but of those authors, who have mentioned them in the course of their respective writ- ings, not one, to my knowledge, has given a correct account of them. It would be tedious to dwell on the errors of Mosheim, or of Formey, or of Hume, or on those to be found in many of the modern periodical(c) publications. It seemed, therefore, from the circum- stance of my familiar intercourse with the Quakers, that it devolved upon me particularly to write their history. And I was the more confirmed in my opin- ion, because, in looking forward, I was never able to foresee the time when any other cause would equally, with that of the slave-trade, bring any other person, who was not of the societv, into such habits of friend- ship with the Quakers, as that he should obtain an equal degree of knowledge concerning them with my- self. By this new consideration I was more than or- dinarily stimulated, and I began my work. It is not improbable but some may imagine from the account already given, that this work will be a partial one, or that it will lean, more than it ought to do, in favour of the Quakers. I do not pretend to say, that I shall be utterly able to divest myself of all • (a) I must except Dr. Toulmin's revision of Neal's history of the Puritans. One or two publications have appeared since, written, in a liberal spirit, but they are confined principally to the religious principles of the Quakers-. INTRODUCTION. y undue influence, which their attention towards me may have produced, or that I shall be utterly unbias- sed, when I consider them as fellow-labourers in the work of the abolition of the slave-trade ; for if others had put their shoulders to the wheel equally with them on the occasion, one of the greatest causes of human misery, and moral evil, that was ever known in the world, had been long ago annihilated, nor can I con- ceal, that I have a regard for men, of whom it is a just feature in their character, that, whenever they can be brought to argue upon political subjects, they reason upon principle, and not upon consequences ; for if this mode of reasoning had been adopted by others, but particularly by men in exalted stations, policy had given way to moral justice, and there had been but little public wickedness in the world. But though I am confessedly partial to the Quakers on account of their hospitality to me, and on account of the good traits in their moral character, I am not so much so, as to be blind to their imperfections. Quakerism is of itself a pure system, and, if followed closely, will lead towards purity and perfection ; but I know well that all, who profess it, are not Quakers. The devia- tion therefore of their practice from their profession, and their frailties and imperfections, I shall uniformly lay open to them, wherever I believe them to exist. And this I shall do, not because I wish to avoid the vi INTRODUCTION. charge of partiality, but from a belief, that it is my duty to do it. The society, of which I am to speak, are called (b) Quakers by the world, but are known to each other by the name of friends, a beautiful appellation, and characteristic of the relation, which man, under the christian dispensation, ought uniformly to bear to man. The Founder of the society was George Fox He was born of "honest and sufficient parents," at Drayton in Leicestershire, in the year 1624. He was put out, when young, according to his own account, to a man, who was a shoe-maker by trade, and who dealt in wool, and followed grazing, and sold cattle." But it appears from William Penn, who became a member of the society, and was acquainted with him that he principally followed the country-part of his master's business. He took a great delight in sheep, " an employment," says Penn, "that very well suited his mind in some respects, both for its innocency and its solitude, and was a just figure of his after ministry and service." In his youth he manifested a seriousness of spirit, not usual in persons of his age. This seriousness (b) Justice Bennet of Derby gave the society the name of Quakers in the year 1650, because the founder of it ordered him, and those present with him, to tremble at the word of the Lord. INTRODUCTION. vii grew upon him, and as it encreased he encouraged it, so that in the year 1643, or in the twentieth year of his age, he conceived himself, in consequence of the awful impression he had received, to be called upon to separate himself from the world, and to devote himself to religion. At this time the Church of England, as a Protes- tant church, had been established; and many, who were not satisfied with the settlement of it, had formed themselves into different religious sects. There was a great number of persons also in the kingdom, who approving neither of the religion of the establishment, nor of that of the different denominations alluded to, withdrew from the communion of every visible church. These were ready to follow any teacher, who might inculcate doctrines that coincided with their own apprehensions. Thus far a way lay open among many for a cordial reception of George Fox. But of those, who had formed different visible churches of their own, it may be observed, that though they were prejudiced, the reformation had not taken place so long, but that they were still alive to religious advancement. Nor had it taken place so long, but that thousands were still very ignorant, and stood in need of light and informataion on that subject. viii INTRODUCTION. It does not appear, however, that George Fox, for the first three years from the time, when he conceiv- ed it to be his duty to withdraw from the world, had done any thing as a public minister of the gospel. He had travelled from the year 1643 to 1646, through the counties of Warwick, Leicester, Northampton, and Bedford, and as far as London. In this interval he appears to have given himself up to solemn im- pressions, and to have endeavoured to find out as ma- ny serious people as he could, with a view of convers- ing with them on the subject of religion. In 1647 he extended his travels to Derbyshire, and from thence into Lancashire, but returned to his na- tive country. He met with many friendly people in the course of this journey, and had many serious conversations with them, but he never joined in pro- fession with any. At Duckenfield, however, and at Manchester, he went among those, whom he termed " the professors of religion," and according to his own expressions, " he staid a while and declared truth among them." Of these some were convinced but others were enraged, being startled at his doc- trine of perfection. At Broughton in Leicestershire, we find him attending a meeting of the Baptists, at which many of other denominations were present. Here he spoke publicly and convinced many. After this he went back to the county of Nottingham. And INTRODUCTION. ix here a report having gone abroad, that he was an ex- traordinary young man, many, both priests and peo- ple, came far and near to see him. In 1648 he confined his movements to a few coun- ties. In this year we find him becoming a public character. In Nottinghamshire he delivered himself in public at three different meetings, consisting either of priests and professors, as he calls them, or profes- sors and people. In Warwickshire he met with a great company of professors, who were praying and expounding the scriptures, in the fields. Here he discoursed largely, and the hearers fell into conten- tion, and so parted. In Leicestershire he attended another meeting, consisting of Church people, Pres- byterians, Independents, and Baptists, where he spoke publicly again. This meeting was held in a church. The persons present discoursed and reasoned. Ques- tions were propounded, and answers followed. An answer given by George Fox, in which he stated that " the church was the pillar and ground of truth, and that it did not consist of a mixed multitude, or of an old house, made up of lime, stones, and wood, but of living stones, living members, and a spiritual household, of which Christ was the head," set them all on fire. The clergyman left the pulpit, the peo- ple their pews, and the meeting separated. George Fox, however, went afterwards to an Inn, where he VOL. 1. B x INTRODUCTION. argued with priests and professors of all sorts. De- parting from thence, he took up his abode for some time in the vale of Beevor, where he preached Re- pentance, and convinced many. He then returned into Nottinghamshire, and passed from thence into Derbyshire, in both which counties his doctrines spread. And, after this, warning Justices of the Peace, as he travelled along, to do justice, and notoriously wicked men to amend their lives, he came into the vale of Beevor again. In this vale it was that he re- ceived, according to his own account, his commis- sion from divine authority, by means cf impressions on his mind, in consequence of which he conceived it to be discovered to him, among other things, that he was " to turn the people from darkness to the light." By this time he had converted many hund- reds to his opinions, and divers meetings of Friends, to use his own expression, "had been then gathered." The year 1649 was ushered in by new labours. He was employed occasionally in writing to judges and justices to do justice, and in warning persons to fulfil the duties of their respective stations in life. This year was the first of all his years of suffering. For it happened on a Sunday morning, that, coming in sight of the town of Nottingham, and seeing the great church, he felt an impression on his mind to go there. On hearing a part of the sermon, he was so INTRODUCTION. xi struck with what he supposed to be the erroneous doctrine it contained, that he could not help publicly contradicting it. For this interruption of the service he was seized, and afterwards confined in prison. At Mansfield again, as he was declaring his own religi- ous opinions in the church, the people fell upon him and beat and bruised him, and put him afterwards in the stocks. At Market Bosworth he was stoned and driven out of the place. At Chesterfield he address- ed both the clergyman and the people, but they car- ried him before the mayor, who detained him till late at night, at which unseasonable time the officers and watchmen put him out of the town. And here I would observe, before I proceed to the occurrences of another year, that there is reason to believe that George Fox disapproved of his own con- duct in having interrupted the service of the church at Nottingham, which I have stated to have been the iirst occasion of his imprisonment. For if he believ- ed any one of his actions, with which the world had been offended, to have been right, he repeated it, as circumstances called it forth, though he was sure of suffering for it either from the magistrates or the peo- ple. But he never repeated this, but he always after- wards, when any occasion of religious controversy occurred in any of the churches, where his travels lay, xii INTRODUCTION. uniformly suspended his observations, till the service was over. George Fox spent almost the whole of the next year, that is, of the year 1650, in confinement in Der- by Prison. In 1651, when he was set at liberty, he seems not to have been in the least disheartened by the treatment he had received mere, or at the different places before mentioned, but to have resumed his travels, and to have held religious meetings, as he went along. He had even the boldness to go into Litchfield, because he imagined it to be his duty, and, with his shoes off to pronounce with an audible voice in the streets, and this on the market- dav, a woe against that citv. He continued also to visit the churches, as he journeyed, in the time of divine service, and to address the priests and the people publicly, as he saw occasion, but not, as I observed before, till he believed the service to be over. It does not appear, however, that he suffered any interruption upon these occasions, in the course of the present year, except at York-Minster ; where, as he was beginning to preach after the sermon, he was hurried out of it, and thrown down the steps by the congregation, which was then breaking up. It ap- t$ pears that he had been generally well received in the county of York, and that he had convinced many. INTRODUCTION. xiii In the year 1652, after having passed through the shires of Nottingham and Lincoln, he came again in- to Yorkshire. Here, in the course of his journey/he ascended Pendle-Hill. At the top of this he appre- hended it was opened to him, whither he was to direct his future steps, and that he saw a great host of people, who were to be converted by him in the course of his j ministry. From this time we may consider him as having received his commission full and complete in his own mind. For in the vale of Beevor he conceived himself to have been informed of the various doc- trines, which it became his duty to teach, and, on this occasion, to have had an insight of the places where he was to spread them. To go over his life, even in the concise way, in which I have hitherto attempted it, would be to swell this introduction into a volume. I shall therefore, from this great period of his ministry, make only the following simple statement concerning it. He continued his labours, as a minister of the gos- pel, and even preached, within two days of his death. During this time he had settled meetings in most parts of the kingdom, and had given to these the foundation of that beautiful system of discipline, which I shall explain in this volume, and which exists among the Quakers at the present day. xiv INTRODUCTION. He had travelled over England, Scotland, and Wales. He had been in Ireland. He had visited the British West- Indies, and America. He had extend- ed his travels to Holland, and part of Germany. He had written, in this interval, several religious books, and had addressed letters to kings, princes, magistrates, and people, as he felt impressions on his mind, which convinced him, that it become his duty to do it. He had experienced also, during this interval, great bodily sufferings. He had been long and repeatedly confined in different gaols of the kingdom. The state of the gaols, in these times, is not easily to be con- ceived. That of Doomsdale at Launceston in Corn- wall, has never been exceeded for filth and pestilential noisomeness, nor those of Lancaster and Scarborough- castles for exposure to the inclemency of the elements. In the two latter he was scarcely ever diy for two years; for the rain used to beat into them, and to run down upon the floor. This exposure to the severity of the weather occasioned his body and limbs to be benumb- ed, and to swell to a painful size, and laid the found- ation, by injuring his health, for future occasional sufferings during the remainder of his life. With respect to the religious doctrines, which George Fox inculcated during his ministry, it is not necessary to speak of them here, as they will be detail- INTRODUCTION. xv ed in their proper places. I must observe, however, that he laid a stress upon many things, which the world considered to be of little moment, but which his fol- lowers thought to be entirely worthy of his spiritual calling. He forbade all the modes and gestures, which are used as tokens of obeisance, or flattery, or honour, among men. He insisted on the necessity of plain speech or language. He declaimed against all sorts of music. He protested against the exhibitions of the theatre, and many of the accustomary diversions of the times. The early Quakers, who followed him in all these points, were considered by some as turning the world upside down ; but they contended in reply, that they were only restoring it to its pure and primi- tive state ; and that they had more weighty arguments for acting up to their principles in these respects, than others had for condemning them for so doing. But whatever were the doctrines, whether civil, or moral, or religious, which George Fox promulgated, he believed that he had a divine commission for teach- ing them, and that he was to be the restorer of Christianity ; that is, that he was to bring people from Jewish ceremonies and Pagan-fables, with which it had been intermixed, and also from worldly customs, to a religion which was to consist of spiritual feeling. I know not how the world will receive the idea, that he conceived himself to have had a revelation for these xvi INTRODUCTION. purposes. But nothing is more usual than for pious people, who have succeeded in any ordinary work of goodness, to say, that they were providentially led to it, and this expression is usually considered among Christians to be accurate. But I cannot always find the difference between a man being providentially led into a course of virtues and successful action, and his having an internal revelation for it. For if we admit that men may be providentially led upon such occa- sions, they must be led by the impressions upon their minds. Bufwhat are these internal impressions, but the dictates of an internal voice to those who follow them ? But if pious men would believe themselves to have been thus providentially led, or acted upon, in any ordinary case of virtue, if it had been crowned with success, George Fox would have had equal reason to believe, from the success that attended his own par- ticular undertaking, that he had been called upon to engage in it. For at a very early age he had confuted many of the professors of religion in public disputa- tions. He had converted magistrates, priests, and people. Of the clergymen of those times some had left valuable livings, and followed him. In his thir- tieth year he had seen no less than sixty persons, spreading, as ministers, his own doctrines. These, and other circumstances which might be related, would doubtless operate powerfully upon him to make INTRODUCTION. xvii him believe, that he was a chosen vessel. Now, if to these considerations it be added, that George Fox was not engaged in any particular or partial cause of benevolence, or mercy, or justice, but wholly and exclusively in a religious and spiritual work, and that it was the first of all his religious doctrines, that the spirit of God, -where men were obedient to it, guided them in their spiritual concerns, he must have believed himself, on the consideration of his unparalleled suc- cess, to have been providentially led, or to have had an internal or spiritual commission for the cause, which he had undertaken. But this belief was not confined to himself. His followers believed in his commission also. They had seen, like himself, the extraordinary success of his ministry. They acknowledged the same internal ad- monitions, or revelations of the same spirit, in spir- itual concerns. They had been witnesses of his inno- cent and blameless life. There were individuals in the kingdom, who had publicly professed sights and prophecies concerning him. At an early age he had been reported, in some parts of the country, as a youth, who had a discerning spirit. It had gone abroad, that he had healed many persons, who had been sick of various diseases. Some of his prophe- cies had come true in the lifetime of those, who had heard them delivered. His followers too had seen VOL. 1. C x^ in INTRODUCTION. many, who had come purposely to molest and appre - hend him, depart quietly, as if their anger and their power had been providentially broken. They had seen others, who had been his chief persecutors, ei- ther falling into misfortunes, or dying a miserable or an untimely death. They had seen him frequently cast into prison, but always getting out again by means of his innocence. From these causes the be- lief was universal among them, that his commission was of divine authority ; and they looked upon him therefore in no other light, than that of a teacher, who had been sent to them from heaven. George Fox was in his person above the ordinary size. He is described by William Penn as a " lusty person." He w r as graceful in his countenance. His eye was particularly piercing, so that some of those, who were disputing with him, were unable to bear it. He was, in short, manly, dignified, and commanding in his aspect and appearance. In his manner of living he was temperate. He ate sparingly. He avoided, except medicinally, all strong drink. Notwithstanding the great exercise he was accus- tomed to take, he allowed himself but little sleep. In his outward demeanour he was modest, and without affectation. He possessed a certain gravity of manners, but he was nevertheless affable, and courte- ous, and civil beyond the usual forms of breeding-. INTRODUCTION, xi* In his disposition he was meek, and tender, and compassionate. He was kind to the poor, without any exception, and, in his own society, laid the founda- tion of that attention towards them, which the world remarks as an honour to the Quaker-character at the present day. But the poor were not the only persons, for whom, he manifested an affectionate concern. He felt and sympathized wherever humamity could be in- terested. He wrote to the judges on the subject of cap- ital punishments, warning them not to take away the lives of persons for theft. On the coast of Cornwall he was deeply distressed at finding the inhabitants, .more intent upon plundering the wrecks of vessels that were driven upon their shores, than upon saving the poor and miserable mariners, who were clinging to them ; and he bore his public testimony against this practice, by sending letters to all the clergymen and magistrates ill the parishes, bordering upon the sea, and reprov- ing them for their unchristian conduct. In the West- Indies also he exhorted those, who attended his meet- ings, to be merciful to their slaves, and to give them their freedom in due time. He considered these as belonging to their families, and that religious intruc- tion was due to these, as the branches of them, for whom one day or other they would be required to give a solemn account. Happy had it been, if these chris- tian exhortations had been attended to, or if those fa- milies only, whom he thus seriously addressed, had xx INTRODUCTION. continued to be true Quakers ; for they would have set an example, which would have proved to the rest of the islanders, and the world at large, that the im- policy is not less than the wickedness of oppression. Thus was George Fox probably the first person, who publicly declared against this species of slavery. No- thing in short, that could be deplored by humanity, seems to have escaped his eye ; and his benevolence, when excited, appears to have suffered no interruption in its progress by the obstacles, which bigotry would have thrown in the way of many, on account of the difference of a persons country, or of his colour, or of his sect. He was patient under his own sufferings. To those, who smote his right cheek, he offered his left; and, in the true spirit of Christianity, he indulged no rancour against the worst of his oppressors. He made use oc- casionally of a rough expression towards them ; but he would never have hurt any of them, if he had had them in his power. He possessed the most undaunted courage ;: for he was afraid of no earthly power. He was never de- terred from going to meetings for worship, though he knew the officers would be there, who were to seize his person. In his personal conversations with Oli- ver Cromwell, or in his letters to him as protector, or in his letters to the parliament, or to king Charles the INTRODUCTION. xxi second, or to any other personage, he discovered his usual boldness of character, and never lost, by means of any degrading flattery, his dignity as a man. But his perseverance was equal to his courage ; for he was no sooner out of goal, than he repeated thevery acts, believing them to be right, for which he had been confined. When he was forced also out of the meeting-houses by the officers of justice, he preached at the very doors. In short, he was never hindered but by sickness, or imprisonments, from persevering in his religious pursuits. With respect to his word, he was known to have held it so sacred, that the judges frequently dismissed him without bail, on his bare promise that he would be forth coming on a given day. On these occasions, he used always to qualify his promise by the expres- sion, " if the Lord permit." Of the integrity of his own character, as a christian, he was so scrupulously tenacious, that, when he might have been sometimes set at liberty by making trifling acknowledgements, he would make none, least it should imply a conviction, that he had been confined for that which was wrong ; and, at one time in parti- cular, king Charles the second was so touched with the hardship of his case, that he offered to discharge him from prison by a pardon. But George Fox de- clined it on the idea, that, as pardon implied guilt, his xxii INTRODUCTION. innocence would be called in question by his accept ance of it. The king, however, replied, that " be need not scruple being released by a pardon, for many a man who was as innocent as a child, had had a par- don granted him." But still he chose to decline it. And he lay in goal, till, upon a trial of the errors in his indictment, he was discharged in an honourable way. As a minister of the gospel, he was singularly emi- nent. He had a wonderful gift in expounding the scriptures. He was particular!}' impressive in his preaching ; but he excelled most in prayer. Here it was, that he is described by William Penn, as possessing the most awful and reverend frame he ever beheld. His presence, says the same author, ex- pressed " a religious majesty." That there must have been something more than usually striking either in his manner, or in his language, or in his arguments, or in all of them combined, or that he spoke " in "the 'i. demonstration of the spirit and with power," we are warranted in pronouncing from the general and pow- erful effects produced. In the year 1648, when he had but once before spoken in public, it was observed of him at Mansfield, at the end of his prayer, " that it was then, as in the days of the apostles, when the house was shaken where they xvere." In the same manner he appears to have gone on, making a deep INTRODUCTION. xxiii. impression upon his hearers, whenever he was fully and fairly heard. Many clergymen, as I observed before, in consequence of his powerful preaching, gave up their livings ; and constables, who attended the meetings, in order to apprehend him, felt them- selves disarmed, so that they went away without attempting to secure his person. As to his life, it was innocent. It is true indeed, that there were persons, high in civil offices, who, be- cause he addressed the people in public, considered him as a disturber of the peace. But none of these ever pretended to cast a stain on his moral character. He was considered both by friends and enemies, as irreproachable in his life. Such was the character of the founder of Quaker- ism. He was born in July 1624, and died on the thirteenth of November 1690, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. He had separated himself from the word in order to attend to serious things, as I observ- ed before, at the age of nineteen, so that he had de- voted himself to the exercises and services of religion for no less a period than forty-eight years. A few hours before his death, upon some friends asking him how he found himself, he replied " never heed. All " is well. The seed or power of God reigns over all, " and over death itself, blessed be the Lord." This answer was full of courage, and corresponded with xxiv INTRODUCTION. that courage, which had been conspicuous in him dur- ing life. It contained an evidence, as manifested in his own feelings, of the tranquillity and happiness of his mind, and that the power and terrors of death had been vanquished in himself. It shewed also the ground of his courage and of his confidence. " He " was full of assurance," says William Penn, " that " he had triumphed over death, and so much so, " even to the last, that death appeared to him hardly worth notice or mention." Thus he departed this life, affording an instance of the truth of those words of the psalmist, " Behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS AND REMARKS. PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS AND REMARKS. QUAKERISM, A HIGH PROFESSION — QUAKERS GENERALLY ALLOWED TO BE A MORAL PEOPLE — VARIOUS CAUSES OF THIS MORALITY OF CHARACTER— 'THEIR MORAL EDUCA- TION, WHICH IS ONE OF THEM, THE FIRST SUBJECT FOR CONSIDERATION THIS EDUCATION UNIVERSAL AMONG THEM — ITS ORIGIN-r-THE PROHIBITIONS BELONGING TO IT CHIEFLY TO BE CONSIDERED. VjrEORGE FOX never gave, while living, nor left after his death, any definition of Quakerism. He left, however, his journal behind him, and he left what is of equal importance, his example. Combin- ing these with the sentiments and practice of the early Quakers, I may state, in a few words, what Qua- kerism is, or at least what we may suppose George Fox intended it to be. Quakerism may he defined to be an attempt, under the divine influence, at practical Christianity as far as \t can he carried. Those, who profess it, consider xxviii PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS. themselves bound to regulate their opinions, words, actions, and even outward demeanour, by Christianity, and by Christianity alone. They consider themselves bound to give up such of the customs, or fashions of men, however general, or generally approved, as mi- litate, in any manner, against the letter or the spirit of the gospel. Hence they mix but little with the world, that they may be less liable to imbibe its spirit. Hence George Fox made a distinction between the members of his own society and others, by the dif- ferent appellations of Friends, and People of the world. They consider themselves also under an obligation to follow virtue, not ordinarily, but even ta the death. For they profess never to make a sacrifice of consci- ence, and therefore, if any ordinances of man are enjoined them, which they think to be contrary to the divine will, they believe it right not to submit to them, but rather, after the example of the apostles and pri- mitive christians, to suffer any loss, penalty, or in- convenience, which may result to them for so doing. This then, in a few words, is a general definition of (c) Quakerism. It is, as we see, a most strict profession of practical virtue under the direction of (c) I wish to be understood, in writing this work, that I can give no account, that will be applicable to all under the name of Quakers. My account will comprehend the general practice, or thai which ought to be the practice of those, who profess Quakerism, PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS. xxix Christianity, and such as, when we consider the in. firmities of human nature, and the temptations that daily surround it, it must be exceedingly difficult to fulfil. But, whatever difficulties may have lain in the way, or however, on account of the necessary weakness of human nature, the best individuals among the Quakers maj^ have fallen below the pattern of excellence, which they have copied, nothing is more true, than that the result has been, that the whole society, as a body, have obtained from their country- men, the character of a moral people. If the reader be a lover of virtue, and anxious for the moral improvement of mankind, he will be de- sirous of knowing what means the Quakers have used to have preserved, for a hundred and fifty years, this desirable reputation in the world. If we were to put the question to the Quakers themselves for their own opinion upon it, I believe I can anticipate their reply. They would attribute any morality, they might be supposed to have, to the Supreme Being, whose will having been discovered by means of the scriptures, and of religious impressions upon the mind, when it has been calm, and still, and abstracted from the world, they have endeavoured to obey. But there is no doubt, that we may add, Auxiliary causes of this morality, and such as the Quakers themselves would allow to have had their xxx PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS. share in producing it, under the same influence. The first of these may be called their moral education. The second their discipline. The third may be said to consist of those domestic, or other customs, which are peculiar to them, as a society of christians. The fourth of their peculiar tenets of religion. In fact, there are many circumstances, interwoven into the constitution of the society of the Quakers, each of which has a separate effect, and all of which have a combined tendency, towards the production of moral character. These auxiliary causes I shall consider and explain in their turn. In the course of this explanation the reader will see, that, if other people were to re r sort to the same means as the Quakers, they would obtain the same reputation, or that human nature is not so stubborn, but that it will yield to a given force. But as it is usual, in examining the life of an individr tial, to begin with his youth, or, if it has been eminent, to begin with the education he has received, so I shall fix upon the first of the auxiliary causes I have men- tioned, or the moral education of the Quakers, as the subject for the first division of my work. Of this moral education I may observe here, that it is universal among the society, or that it obtains where the individuals are considered to be true Quakers. It matters not, how various the tempers of young persons may be, who come under it, they PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS, xxxi must submit to it. Nor does it signify what may be the disposition, or the whim, and caprice of their parents, they must submit to it alike. The Quakers believe that they have discovered that system of mo- rality, which Christianity prescribes; and therefore that they can give no dispensation to their members, under any circumstances whatever, to deviate from if. The origin of this system, as a standard of education in the society, is as follows. When the first Quakers met in union, they consisted of religious or spiritually minded men. From that time to the present, there has always been, as we may imagine, a succession of such in the society. Many of these, at their great meetings, which have been annual since those days, have delivered their sentiments on various interesting points. These sen- timents were regularly printed, in the form of yearly epistles, and distributed among Quaker families. Extracts, in process of time, were made from them, and arranged under different heads, and published in one book, under the name of (d) Advices. Now these advices comprehend important subjects. They relate to customs, manners, fashions, conversation, conduct. They contain of course recommendations. and suggest prohibitions, to the society, as rules ofgnid- (d) The Book is intitled "Extracts from the minutes made, and from " the advices given, at the yearly Meeting - of the Quakers in London, " since its first Institution." xxxii PREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS. ance : and as they came from spiritually minded men on solemn occasions, they are supposed to have had a spiritual origin. Hence Quaker parents manage their youth according to these recommendations and prohibi- tions, and hence this book of extracts (for so it is usual- ly called) from which I have obtained a considerable portion of my knowledge on this subject, forms the basis of the moral Education of the Society. Of the contents of this book, I shall notice, while I am treating upon this subject, not those rules which are of a recommendatory, but those, which are of a prohibitory nature. Education is regulated either by recommendations, or by prohibitions, or by both conjoined. The former relate to things, where there is a wish that youth should conform to them, but where a trifling deviation from them would not be considered as an act of delinquency publicly reprehensible. The latter to things, where any com- pliance with them becomes a positive offence. The Quakers, in consequence of the vast power they have ©ver their members by means of their discipline, lay a great stress upon the latter. They consider their prohibitions, when duly watched and enforced, as so many barriers against vice or preservatives of virtue. Hence they are the grand component parts of their moral education, and hence I shall chiefly consider them in the chapters, which are now to follow upon this subject. Moral Education THE QUAKERS, VOL. 1. MORAL EDUCATION OF THE QUAKERS. CHAP. I. Moral Education of the Quakers — amusements neces- sary for youth — Quakers distinguish between the useful and tlw hurtful — the latter specified and for^ bidden. VV HEN the blooming spring sheds abroad its be- nign influence, man feels it equally with the rest of created nature. The blood circulates more freely, and a new current of life seems to be diffused, in his veins. The aged man is enlivened, and the sick man feels himself refreshed. Good spirits and cheerful countenances succeed. But as the year changes in its seasons, and rolls round to its end, the tide seems, to slacken, and the current of feeling to return to its former level. But this is not the case with the young. The whole year to them is a kind of perpetual spring. 36 MORAL EDUCATION. Their blood runs briskly throughout. Their spirits are kept almost constantly alive ; and as the cares of the world occasion no drawback, they feel a perpetual disposition to cheerfulness and to mirth. This dis- position seems to be universal in them. It seems too to be felt by us all ; that is, the spring, enjoyed by youth, seems to operate as spring to maturer age. The sprightly and smiling looks of children, their shrill, lively, and cheerful voices, their varied and ex- hilarating sports, all these "are interwoven with the other objects of our senses, and have an imperceptible, though an undoubted influence, in adding to the cheer- fulness of our minds. Take away the beautiful cho- risters from the woods, and those, who live in the country, would but half enjoy the spring. So, if by means of any unparalleled pestilence, the children of a certain growth were to be swept away, and we were to lose this infantile link in the chain of age, those, who were left behind, would find the creation dull, or experience an interruption in the cheerfulness of their feelings, till the former were successively restored. The bodies, as well as the minds of children, re- quire exercise for their growth : and as their disposi- tion is thus lively and sportive, such exercises, as are amusing, are necessary, and such amusements, on account of the length of the spring which they enjoy a must be expected to be long, MORAL EDUCATION. 57 The Quakers, though they are esteemed an austere people, are sensible of these wants or necessities of youth. They allow their children most of the sports or exercises of the body, and most of the amusements or exercises of the mind, which other children of the island enjoy ; but as children are to become men, and men are to become moral characters, they believe that bounds should be drawn, or that an unlimitted permission to follow every recreation would be hurt- ful. The Quakers therefore have thought it proper to interfere on this subject, and to draw the line between those amusements, which they consider to be salutary, and those, which they consider to be hurtful. They have accordingly struck out of the general list of these such, and such only, as, by being likely to endanger their morality, would be likely to interrupt the useful- ness, and the happiness, of their lives. Among the bodily exercises, dancing, and the diversions of the field, have been proscribed ; among the mental, mu- sic, novels, the theatre, and all games of chance, of every description, have been forbidden. These are the principal prohibitions, which the Quakers have made on the subject of their moral education. They were suggested, most of them, by George Fox, but were brought into the discipline, at different times, by his successors. as MORAL EDUCATION. I shall now consider each of these prohibitions se- parately, and I shall give all the reasons, which the Quakers themselves give, why, as a society of Chris- tians, they have thought it right to issue and enforce them. MORAL EDUCATION. 39 CHAP. II.....SECT. I. Games of chance — Quakers forbid cards, dice, and other similar amusements — also, concerns in lotteries — and certain transactions in the stocks — they for- bid also all wagers, and speculations by a monied stake — the peculiar wisdom of the latter prohibition^ as collected from the history of the origin of some of the amusements of the times. Wi HEN we consider the depravity of heart, and the misery and ruin, that are frequently connected with gaming, it woulel be strange indeed, if the Quakers, as highly professing Christians, had not endeavoured to extirpate it from their own body. No people, in fact, have taken more or more effec- tual measures for its suppression. They have pro- scribed the use of all games of chance, and of all games of skill, that are connected with chance in any manner. Hence cards, dice, horse-racing, cock -fig] it - ingy and all the amusements, which come under this definition, are forbidden. But as there are certain transactions, independently of these amusements, which are equally connected 40 MORAL EDUCATION". with hazard, and which individuals might convert into the means of moral depravity and temporal ruin, they have forbidden these also, by including them under the appellation of gaming. Of this description are concerns in the lottery, from which all Quakers are advised to refrain. These in- clude the purchase of tickets, and all insurance upon the same. In transactions of this kind there is always a monied stake, and the issue is dependent upon chance. There is of course the same fascinating stimulus as in cards, or dice, arising from the hope of gain. The mind also must be equally agitated between hope and fear ; and the same state of desperation may be produced, with other fatal consequences, in the event of loss. Buying and selling in the public stocks of the king- dom is, under particular circumstances, discouraged also. Where any of the members of the society buy into the stocks, under the idea, that they are likely to obtain better security, or more permanent advantages, such a transfer of their property is allowable. But if any were to make a practice of buying or selling, week after week, upon speculation only, such a prac- tice would come under the denomination of gaming. In this case, like the preceding, it is evident, that money would be the object in view ; that the issue would be hazardous ; and,, if the stake or deposit MORAL EDUCATION. 41 were of great importance, the tranquillity of the mind might be equally disturbed, and many temporal suffer- ings might follow. The Quakers have thought it right, upon the same principle, to forbid the custom of laying wagers upon any occasion whatever, or of reaping advantage from any doubtful event, by a previous agreement upon a monied stake. This prohibition, however, is not on record, like the former, but is observed as a traditional law. No Quaker-parent would suffer his child, nor Quaker- schoolmaster the children entrusted to his care, nor any member another, to be concerned in amusements of this kind, without a suitable reproof. By means of these prohibitions, which are enforced, in a great measure, by the discipline, the Quakers have put a stop to gaming more effectually than others-, but particularly by means of the latter. For history has shewn us, that we cannot always place a reliance on a mere prohibition of any particular amusement or employment, as a cure for gaming, because any pas- time or employment, however innocent in itself, may be made an instrument for its designs. There are few customs, however harmless, which avarice can- not convert into the means of rapine on the one hand, and of distress on the other. Many of the games, which are new in use with such pernicious effects to individuals, were not for- Vol. i, F 4E MORAL EDUCATION. merly the instruments of private ruin. Horse-racing was originally instituted with a view of promoting a better breed of horses for the services of man. Upon this principle it was continued. It afforded no private emolument to any individual. The by-standers were only spectators. They were not interested in the vic- tory. The victor himself was remunerated, not with money, but with crowns and garlands, the testimonies of public applause. But the spirit of gaming got hold of the custom, and turned it into a private diver- sion, which was to afford the opportunity of a private prize* Cock-fighting, as we learn from iElian, was insti- tuted by the Athenians, immediately after their victo- ry over the Persians, to perpetuate the memory of the event, and to stimulate the courage of the youth of Greece in the defence of their own freedom , and it was continued upon the same principle, or as a public institution for a public good. But the spirit of avarice seized it, as it has done the custom of horse-racing, and continued it for a private gain. Cards, that is, European cards, were, as all are agreed, of an harmless origin. Charles the sixth, of France, was particularly afflicted with the hypo- chondriasis. While in this disoredred state, one of his subjects invented them, to give variety of amuse- ment to his mind. From the court they passed into MORAL EDUCATION. 43 private families. And here the same avaricious spirit fastened upon them, and, with its cruel talons, clawed them, as it were, to its own purposes, not caring how much these little instruments of cheerfulness in hu- man disease were converted into instruments for the extension of human pain. In the same manner as the spirit of gaming has seized upon these different institutions and amuse- ments of antiquity, and turned them from their origi- nal to new and destructive uses, so there is no cer- tainty, that it will not seize upon others, which may have been innocently resorted to, and prostitute them equally with the former. The mere prohibition of particular amusements, even if it could be enforced, would be no cure for the evil. The brain of man is fertile enough, as fast as one custom is prohibited, to fix upon another. And if all the games, now in use, were forbidden, it would be still fertile enough to, in- vent others for the same purposes. The bird that flies in the air, and the snail, that crawls upon the ground, have not escaped the notice of the gamester, but have been made, each of them, subservient to his pursuits. The wisdom, therefore, of the Quakers, ia making it to be considered as a law of the society, that no member is to lay wagers, or reap advantage from any doubtful event, by a previous agreement upon a monied stake, is particularly conspicuous. For, 44 MORAL EDUCATION. whenever it can be enforced, it must be an effectual cure for gaming. For we have no idea, how a man can gratify his desire of gain by means of any of the amusements of chance, if he can make no monied arrangements about their issue. SECT. II. The first argument for the prohibition of cards, and of similar amusements, by the Quakers, is that they are below the dignity of the intellect of man, and of his moral and christian character — -sentiments of Addison on this subject. X. HE reasons, which the Quakers give for the pro - hibition of cards, and of amusements of a similar nature, to the members of their own society, are gen- erally such as are given by other Christians, though they make use of one, which is peculiar to themselves. It has been often observed, that the word amuse, ment is proper to characterize the employments of children, but that the word utility is the only one pro- per to characterize the employment of men. MORAL EDUCATION. 4$ The first argument of the Quakers, on this sub- ject, is of a complexion, similar to that of the obser- vation just mentioned. For when they consider man, as a reasonable being, they are of opinion, that his occupations should be rational. And when they con- sider him as making a profession of the Christian re- ligion, they expect that his conduct should be manly, serious, and dignified. But all such amusements, as those in question, if resorted to for the filling up of his vacant hours, they conceive to be unworthy of his intellect, and to be below the dignity of his Christian character. They believe also, when they consider man as a mo- ral being, that it is his duty, as it is unquestionably his interest, to aim at the improvement of his moral cha- racter. Now one of the foundations, on which this improvement must be raised, is knowledge. But knowledge is only slowly acquired. And human life, or the time for the acquisition of it, is but short. It does not appear, therefore, in the judgment of the Quakers, that a person can have much time for amuse- ments of this sort, if he be bent upon obtaining that object, which will be most conducive to his true hap- piness, or to the end of his existence here. Upon this first argument of the Quakers I shall only observe, lest it should be thought singular, that •sentiments of a similar import are to be found in au- 46 MORAL EDUCATION. thors, of a different religious denomination, and of acknowledged judgment and merit. Addison, in one of his excellent chapters on the proper employment of life, has the following observation : " The next method, says he, that I would propose to fill up our time should be innocent and useful diversions. I must confess I think it is below reasonable creatures, to be altogether conversant in such diversions, as are merely innocent, and have nothing else to recommend them, but that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of gam- ing has even thus much to say for itself I shall not determine : but I think it is very wonderful to see persons of the best sense passing a dozen hours toge- ther in shuffling and dividing a pack of cards, with no other conversation, but what is made up of a few game-phrases, and no other ideas, but those of red or black spots ranged together in different figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of this species complaining that life is short ?" MORAL EDUCATION, 47 SECT. III. 4 Cards on account of the manner in which they are generally used, produce an excitement of the pas- sions — historical anecdotes of this excitement — this excitement another cause of their prohibition by the Quakers, because it unfits the mind, according to their notions, for the reception of religious impres- sions. JL HE Quakers are not so superstitious as to imagine that there can be any evil in cards, considered ab- stractedly as cards, or in some of the other amuse- ments, that have been mentioned. The red or the black images on their surfaces can neither pollute the fingers, nor the minds, of those -who handle themv They may be moved about, and dealt in various ways, and no objectionable consequences may follow. They may be used, and this innocently, to construct the similitudes of things* They may be arranged, so as to exhibit devices, which may be productive of harm- less mirth. The evil, connected with them, will de- pend solely upon the manner of their use. If they are used for a trial of skill, and for this purpose only, 48 MORAL EDUCATION. they will be less dangerous, than where they are used for a similar trial, with a monied stake. In the for- mer case, however, they may be made to ruffle the temper, for, in the very midst of victory, the com- batant may experience defeat. In the latter case, the loss of victory will be accompanied by a pecuniary loss, and two causes, instead of one, of the excite- ment of the passions, will operate at once upon the mincL It seldom happens, and it is much to be lamented, either that children, or that more mature persons, are satisfied with amusements of thiskind,so as to use them simply as trials of skill. A monied stake is usually proposed, as the object to be obtained. This general attachment of a monied victory to cards is productive frequently of evil. It generates often improper feel- ings. It gives birth to uneasiness and impatience, while the contest is in doubt, and not unfrequently to anger and resentment, when it is over. But the passions, which are thus excited among youth, are excited also, but worked up to greater mischief, where grown up persons follow these amuse- ments imprudently, than where children are concern- ed. For though avarice, and impatience, and anger, are called forth among children, they subside sooner. A boy, though he loses his all when he loses his stake , suffers nothing from the idea of having impaired MORAL EDUCATION". 4$ the means of his future comfort, and independence. His next week's allowance, or the next little gift, will set him right again. But when a grown up person, who is settled in the world, is led on by these fasci- nating amusements, so as to lose that which would be of importance to his present comfort, but more parti- cularly to the happiness of his future life, the case is materially altered. The same passions, which harrass the one, will harrass the other, but the effec's will be widely different. I have been told that persons have been so agitated before the playing of the card, that was to decide their destiny, that large drops of sweat have fallen from then faces, though they Mere under no bodily exertions. Now, what must have been the state of their minds, when the card in question proved decisive of their loss ? Reason must unquestionably have fled. And it must have been succeeded instantly either by fury or despair. It would not have been at all wonderful, if persons in such a state were to have lost their senses, or, if unable to contain themselves, they were immediately to have vented their enraged feelings either upon themselves, or upon others, who were the authors, or the spectators, of their loss. It is not necessary to have recourse to the theory of the human mind, to anticipate the consequences, that would be likely to result to grown up persons from such an extreme excitement of the passions, VOL. i. g 50 MORAL EDUCATION. History has given a melancholy picture of these, as they have been observable among different nations of the world. The ancient Germans, according to Tacitus, play- ed to such desperat on, that, when they had lost every thing else, they staked the : r personal liberty, and, in the event of bad fortune, became the slaves of the winners. • D'Israeli, in his curiosities of literature, has given us the following account. " Dice, says he, and that little pugnacious anima], the cock, are the chief in- struments employed by the numerous nations of the east, to agitate their minds, and ruin their fortunes, to which the Chinese, who are desperate gamesters, add the use of cards. When all other property is played away, the Asiatic gambler does not scruple to stake his wife, or his child, on the cast of a dye, or on the strength and courage of a martial bird. If still unsuccessful, the last venture is himself. " In the island of Ceylon, cock-fighting is carried to a great height. The Sumatrans are addicted to the use of dice. A strong spirit of play characterizes the Malayan. After having resigned every thing to the. good fortune of the winner, he is reduced to a horrid state of desperation. He then loosens a certain lock of hair, which indicates war and destruction to all he meets. He intoxicates himself with opium, and MORAL EDUCATION. 51 working himself to a fit of frenzy, he bites and kills every one, who comes in his way. But as soon as ever this lock is seen flowing, it is lawful to fire at the person, and to destroy him as soon as possible. " " To discharge their gambling debts, the Siamese sell their possessions, their families, and at length themselves. The Chinese play night and day, till they have lost all they are worth, and then they usually go and hang themselves. In the newly discovered islands of the Pacific Ocean, they venture even their hatchets, which they hold as invaluable acquisitions, on running matches. We saw a man, says Cooke, in his last voyage, beating his breast and tearing his hair in the violence of rage, for having lost three hatchets at one of these races, and which he had pur- chased with nearly half of his property." But it is not necessary to go beyond our own coun- try for a confirmation of these evils. Civilized as we are beyond all the people who have been mentioned, and living where the Christian religion is professed, we have the misfortune to see our own countrymen engaged in similar pursuits, and equally to the dis- turbance of the tranquillity of their minds, and equal- ly to their own ruin. They cannot, it is true, stake their personal liberty, because they can neither sell themselves, nor be held as slaves. But we see them staking their comfort, and aH their prospects in life. 5fc MORAL EDUCATION. We see them driven into a multitude of crimes. We see them suffering in a variety of ways. How often has duelling, with all its horrible effects, been the legitimate offspring of gaming ! How many suicides have proceeded from the same source ! How many persons in consequence of a violation of the laws, occasioned solely by gaming, have come to igno- minious and untimely ends ! Thus it appears that gaming, wherever it has been practised to excess, whether by cards, or by dice, or by other instruments, or whether among nations civil- ized or barbarous, or whether in ancient or modern times, has been accompanied with the most violent excitement of the passions, so as to have driven its votaries to desperation, and to have ruined their mo- rality and their happiness. It is upon the excitement of the passions, which must have risen to a furious height, before such des- perate actions as those, which have been specified, could have commenced, that the Quakers have found- ed their second argument for the prohibition of games Of chance, or of any amusements or transactions, con- nected with a monied stake. It is one of then prin- cipal tenets, as will be diffusively shewn in a future volume, that the supreme Creator of the universe affords a certain portion of his own spirit, or a certain emanation of the pure" principle, to all his rational MORAL EDUCATION. 53 creatures, for the regulation of their spiritual ion- cerns. They believe, therefore, that stillness ind quietness, both of spirit and of body, are necessaryfor them, as far as these can be obtained. For how (an a man, whose earthly passions are uppermost, bein a fit state to receive, or a man of noisr and turbulat habits be in a fit state to attend to, the spiritual al. monitions of this pure influence ? Hence one of tie first points in the education of the Quakers is to a - tend to the subjugation of the will ; to take care tha; every perverse passion be checked ; and that the crea ture be rendered calm and passive. Hence Quakei children are rebuked for all expressions of anger, ai tending to raise those feelings, which oight to be sup- pressed. A raising even of their voices beyond due bounds is discouraged, as leading to tie disturbance of their minds. They are taught to rise in the morn- ing in quietness, to go about their orqnary occupa- tions with quietness, and to retire in quietness to their beds. Educated in this manner, we seldom see a noisy or an irascible Quaker. This khd of educa- tion is universal among the Quakers, tt is adopted at home. It is adopted in their schools The great and practical philanthropist, John Howird, when he was at Ackworth, which is the great pullic school of the Quakers, was so struck with thequie\ deportment of the children there, that he mentioned itwith appro. 34 MORAL EDUCATION. batbn in his work on Lazarettos, and gave to the pullic some of its rules, as models for imitation in otler seminaries. 3ut if the Quakers believe that this pure principle^ wlen attendee to, is an infallible guide to them in their reigious or spiritual concerns ; if they believe that its irfluences are best discovered in the quietness and sience of their senses ; if, moreover, they educate vith a view oi" producing such a calm and tranquil sate ; it must oe obvious, that they can never allow dther to their children, or to those of maturer years, he use of an} of the games of chance, because these, in account of their peculiar nature, are so productive pf sudden fluctuations of hope, and fear, and joy, and disappoiitment, that they are calculated,- more than any othn the manners, and not in the morals of mankind. VOL. 1 I S6 MORAL EDUCATION". Musical Italians are esteemed a soft and effeminate, but they are generally reputed a depraved people, Music, in short, though it breathes soft influences, cannot yet breathe morality into the mind. It may do to soften savages, but a christian community, in the opinion of the Quakers, can admit of no better civilization, than that which the spirit of the supreme being, and an observance of the pure precepts of Christianity, can produce. Music,, again, does not appear to the Quakers to be the foundation of any solid comfort in life. It may give spirits for the moment as strong liquor does 3 but when the effect of the liquor is over, the spirits flag, and the mind is again torpid. It can give no solid encouragement nor hope, nor prospects. It can afford no anchorage ground, which shall hold the mind in a storm. The early christians, impri- soned,, beaten and persecuted even to death, would have had but poor consolation, if they had not had a better friend than music to have relied upon in the hour of their distress. And here I think the Quakers would particularly condemn music, if they thought it could be resorted to in the hour of affliction, in as much as it would then have a tendency to divert the mind from its true and only support. Music, again, does not appear to them to be pro iuctiveof elevated thoughts,. that is, of such thoughts MORAL EDUCATION. t>? as raise the mind to sublime and spiritual things, ab- stracted from the inclinations, the temper, and the prejudices of the world. The most melodious sounds that human instruments can make, are from the earth earthly. But nothing can rise higher than its own origin. All true elevation therefore can only come, in the opinion of the Quakers, from the divine source The Quakers therefore, seeing no moral utility in music, cannot make it a part of their education. But there are other considerations, of a different nature, which influence them in the same way. Music, in the first place, is a sensual gratification. Even those who run after sacred music, never consi- der themselves as going to a phce of devotion, but where, in full concert, they may hear the performance of the master pieces of the art. This attention to religious compositions, for the sake of the music, has been noticed by one of our best poets. " and ten thousand sit, " Patiently present at a sacred song, " Commemoratioiwnad, content to hear, " O wonderful effect of music's power, " Messiah's eulogy for Handal's sake ! COWPER But the Quakers believe, that all sensual desire; should be held in due subordination to the pure prin- ciple, or that sensual pleasures should be discouraged, 5A moral education. as much as possible, as being opposed to those spiri- tual feelings, which constitute the only perfect enjoy- ment of a christian. Music, again, if it were encouraged in the society, would be considered as depriving those of maturer years of hours of comfort, which they now frequently enjoy, in the service of religion. Retirement is con- sidered by the Quakers as a christian duty. The members therefore of this society are expected to wait in silence, not only in their places of worship, but occasionally in their families, or in their private chambers, in the intervals of their daily occupations, that, in stillness of heart, and in freedom from the ac- tive contrivance of their own wills, they may acquire both directions and strength for the performance of the duties of life. The Quakers therefore are of opinion, that, if instrumental music were admitted as a gratification in leisure hours, it would take the place of many of these serious retirements, and become ve- ry injurious to their interests and their character ajs christians MORAL EDUCATION. 69 SECT. HE Vocal music forbidden — singing in itself no more im- moral than reading — but as vocal music articulates ■v. ideas, it'may convey poison to the mind — some ideas ill songs contrary to Quaker notions of morality — as in hunting songs — o? in baccanalia?i — or in mar- tial — youth make no selection — but learn all that fall in their way. J[T is an observation of Lactantius, that the " plea- sures we receive through the organ of the ears, may be as injurious as those we receive, through the or- gan of the eyes." He does not, however, consider the effect of instrumental music as much to be re- garded, " because sounds, which proceed from air, are soon gone, and they give birth to no sentiments that can be recorded. Songs, on the other hand, or sounds from the voice, may have an injurious influ- ence on the mind." The Quakers, in their view of this subject, make the same distinction as this ancient father of the church. They have a stronger objection, if it be pos- sible, to vocal, than to instrumental music. Instru- %0 MORAL EDUCATION. mental music, though it is considered to be produc- tive of sensual delight, is yet considered as incapable, on account of its inability to articulate, or its inability to express complex ideas, of conveying either unjust or impure sentiments to the mind. Vocal, on the other hand, is capable of conveying to it poison of this sort. For vocal music consists of songs, or of words musically expressed by the human voice. But words are the representatives of ideas, and, as far as these ideas are pure or otherwise, so far may vocal music be rendered innocent or immoral. The mere singing, it must be obvious, can be no more immoral than the reading, of the same song, singing is but another mode of expressing it. The morality of the action will depend upon the words which it may contain. If the words in a song are pure, if the sentiments in it are just, and if it be the tendency of these to awaken generous and virtuous sympathies, the song will operate no otherwise than a lesson of morality. And will a lesson of morality be less serviceable to us, because it is dressed up in poetry and musically expressed by the human voice, than when it is conveyed to us in prose? But if, on the other hand, the words in a song are in themselves unchaste, if they inculcate false honour, if they lead to false opinions, if they suggest sentiments, that have a tendency to produce depraved feelings, then vocal MORAL EDUCATION. 7u music, by which these are conveyed in pleasing ac- cents to the ear, becomes a destroyer of morals, and cannot therefore be encouraged by any, who consider purity of hea t, as required by ihe christian religion. Now the Quakers are of opinion, that the songs of the world contain a great deal of objectionable matter in these respects; and that if they were to be promiscu- ously taken up by children, who have no powers ol discriminating between the good and the bad, and who generally lay hold of all that fall in their way, they would form a system of sentimental maxims, very injurious in their tendency to their moral charac ter. If we were to take a collection of songs as publish- ed in books, and were to examine these, we should find that such a system might easily be formed. And. if, again, we were to examine the sentiments contain- ed in many of these, by the known sentiments of the Quakers on the several subjects of each, we should iind that, as a highly professing people, more objec- tions would arise aeainst vocal music anions them , than among other people* Let us, for example, just glance at that class of .songs,, which in the collection would be called hunt- ing songs. In these men are invited to the pleasures of the chase, as to pleasures of a superior kind. The triumphs over the timid hare are celebrated in these n MURAL EDUCATION. with a kind of enthusiastic joy, and celebrated too as triumphs, worthy of the character of men. Glory is even attached to these pursuits. But the Quakers, as it will appear in a future chapter, endeavour to pre- vent their youth from following any of the diversions of the field. They consider pleasures as placed on a false foundation, and triumphs as unmanly and in- glorious, which are founded on circumstances, con- nected with the sufferings of the brute creation. They cannot therefore approve of songs of this order, be- cause they consider them as disseminating sentiments that are both unreasonable and cruel. Let us now go to another class, which may be found in the same collection ; I mean the bacchana- lian. Men are invited here to sacrifice frequently at the shrine of Bacchus. Joy, good humour, and fine spirits, are promised to those, who pour out their li- bations in a liberal manner. An excessive use of wine, w 7 hich injures the constitution, and stupifies the faculties, instead of being censured in these songs is sometimes recommended in them, as giving to na- ture that occasional stimulus, which is deemed neces- sary to health. Poets too, in their songs, have con- sidered the day as made only for vulgar souls, but the night for the better sort of people, that they may the better pursue the pleasures of the bottle. Others have gone so far in their songs, as to promise long MORAL EDUCATION. 75 life as a consequence of drinking, while others, who confess that human life may be shortened by such means, take care to throw out, that, as a man's life thus becomes proportionabiy abridged, it is rendered proportionably a merry one. Now the Quakers are so particularly careful with respect to the use of wine and spirituous liquors, that the society are annually and publicly admonished to beware of excess. Qua- kers are discouraged from going even to inns but for the purposes of business and refreshment, and are admonished to take care, that they stay there no longer than is necessary for such purposes. The Quakers therefore, cannot be supposed to approve of any of the songs of this class, as far as they recom- mend or promote drunkenness. And they cannot but consider them as containing sentiments injurious to the morals of their children. But let us examine another class of songs, that may be found in the same collection. These may be denominated martial. Now what is generally the tenor of these songs ? The authors celebrate victo- ries. They endeavour, regardless of the question, whether their own cause be a right or a wrong one, to excite joy at the events, it is their aim fre- quently to rouse the soul to the performance of mar- tial exploits, as to exploits the fullest of human glory. They frequently threaten enemies with new chastise- Vol.i. K 74 MORAL EDUCATION. ments, and new victories, and breathe the spirit e-f revenge. But the Quakers consider all wars, whether offensive or defensive, as against the spirit of the christian religion. They cannot contemplate scenes of victory but with the eye of pity, and the tear of compassion, for the sufferings of their fellow- crea- tures, whether countrymen or enemies, and for the devastation of the human race. They allow no glory to attach, nor do they give any thing like an honour- able reputation, to the Alexanders, the Caesars, or the heroes either of ancient or modern date. They can- not therefore approve of songs of this class, because they conceive them to inculcate sentiments, totally contrary to the mild and peaceful spirit of the christian religion. If we were to examine the collection farther, we might pick out other songs, which might be reckon- ed of the class of the impure. Among these will be found ideas, so indelicate, that notwithstanding the gloss, which wit and humour had put over them, the chaste ear could not but be offended by their recital. It must be obvious, in this case also, that not only the Quakers, but all persons filling the stations of parents, would be sorry if their children were to come to the knowledge of some of these. It is unnecessary to proceed farther upon this sub- ject, For the reader must be aware that, while the MORAL EDUCATION. 75 Quakers hold such sentiments, they can never patron- ise such songs ; and that if those who are taught or allowed to sing, generally lay hold of all the songs that come into their way, that is, promiscuously and without selection. The Quakers will have a strong ground as a christian society, or as a society, who hold "it necessary to be watchful over their words as well as their actions, for the rejection of vocal music SECT. IV. The preceding are the arguments of the early Quaker* — new state of music has produced new ones — in- strumental now censurable for a waste of time — for leading into company — for its connection with vocaL HE arguments which have hitherto appeared against the admission of music into education, arc those which were nearly coeval with the society itself. The incapability of music to answer moral ends, the sensuality of the gratification, the impediments it might throw in the way of religious retirement, the impurity it might convey to the mind, were in the 76 MORAL EDUCATION. mouths of the early Quakers. Music at that time was principally in the hands of those, who made a livelihood of the art. Those who followed it as an accomplishment, or a recreation, were few and these followed it with moderation. But since those days, its progress has been immense. It has traversed the whole kingdom. It has got into almost all the fami- lies of rank and fortune. Many of the middle classes, in imitation of the higher, have received it, and, as it has undergone a revolution in the extent, so it has undergone another in the object of its practice. It is learned now, not as a source of occasional recrea- tion, but as a complicated science, w here perfection is insisted upon to make it worthy of pursuit. In this new state therefore of music new arguments have arisen on the part of the Quakers, which I shall now concisely detail. The Quakers, in the first place, are of opinion, that the learning of music, as it is now learned, can- not be admitted by them as a christian society, be- cause, proficiency being now the object of it, as has been before observed, it would keep them longer employed, than is consistent with people, who are commanded to redeem their time. They believe also that music in its present state, has an immediate tendency to leading into the compa- ny of the world. In former times, when music was MORAL EDUCATION. 77 followed with moderation, it was esteemed as a com- panion, or as a friend: it afforded relaxation after fa- tigue, and amusement in solitary hours. It drew a young person to his home, and hindered him from fol- lowing many of the idle diversions of the times. But now, or since it has been practised with a new object, it produces a different effect. It leads into company. It leads to trials of skill. It leads to the making up of fes- tive parties. It leads, for its own gratification, to the various places of public resort. Now this tendency of leading into public is considered by the Quakers as a tendency big with the dissolution of their society. For they have many customs to keep up, which are quite at variance with those of the world. The for- mer appear to be steep and difficult as common paths. Those of the world to be smooth and easy. The natural inclination of youth, more prone to self-grati- fication than to self-denial, would prefer to walk in the latter. And the influence of fashion would point to the same choice. The liberty too, which is allow- ed in the one case, seems more agreeable than the discipline imposed in the other. Hence it has been found, that in proportion as young Quakers mix with the world, tfley generally imbibe its spirit, and weaken themselves as members of their own body. The Quakers again, have an objection to the learn- ing of instrumental music on account of its almost in- Za MORAL EDUCATION. separable connection with vocal, in consequence of which, it leads often to the impurity, which the latter has been shewn to be capable of conveying to the mind. This connection does not arise so much from the circumstance, that those, who learn to play, generally learn to sing, as from another consideration. Musi- cal people, who have acquired skill and taste, are de- sirous of obtaining every new musical publication, as it comes out. This desire is produced where there is an aim at perfection in this science. The pro- fessed novel reader, we know, waits with impatience for a new novel. The politician discovers anxiety for his morning paper. Just so it is with the musical amateur with respect to a new tune. Now, though many of the new compositions come out for instru- mental music only, yet others come out entirely as vocal. These consist of songs sung at our theatres, er at our public gardens, or at our other places of public resort, and are afterwards printed with their music, and exposed to sale. The words therefore of these songs, as well as the music that is attached to them, fall into the hands of the young amateur. Now as such songs are not always chaste, or delicate, and as they frequently contain such sentiments, as I have shewn the Quakers to disapprove, the young musician, if a Quaker, might have his modestey fre- MORAL EDUCATION. 79 Kjuently put to the blush, or his delicacy frequently wounded, or his morality often broken in upon, by their perusal. Hence, though instrumental music might have no immoral tendency in itself, the Quakers have rejected it, among other reasons, on account of its almost inseparable connection with vocal. SECT. V. Objection anticipated, that though the arguments, used by the Quakers in the preceding chapters, are gene- rally fair and positive, yet an exceptionable one seems to have been introduced, by which it appears to be inculcated, that the use of a thing ought to be abandoned on account of its abuse — explanation of the distinction, made by the Quakers, in the use of this argument. X PURPOSE to stop for a while, and to make a distinction, which may now become necessary, with respect to the use of what may appear to be a Quaker- principle of argument, before I proceed to a new sub- ject. It may have been observed by some of my readers, < MORAL EDUCATION. that though the Quakers have adduced arguments, which may be considered as fair and positive on the subjects, which have come before us, yet they appear to have adduced one, which is no other, than that of condemning the use of a thing on account of its abuse. Now this mode of reasoning, it will be said has been exploded by logicians, and for this, among ether reasons, that if we were bound to relinquish customs in consequence of it, we should be obliged to give up many things that are connected with the comforts, and even with the existence of our lives. To this observation I must reply, that the Quakers never recommend an abstinence from any custom, merely because the use of it ma}- lead to its abuse. Where a custom is simply liable to abuse, they satisfy themselves with recommending moderation in the use of it. But where the abuse of a custom is either, in the first place, necessarily, or, in the second very gene- rally connected with the use of it, they generally con- sider the omission of it as morally wise and prudent. It is in these two cases only that they apply, or that, they lay any stress upon the species of argument described. This species of argument, under these two limita- tions, they believe to be tenable in christian morals, and they entertain this belief upon the following grounds. MORAL EDUCATION. 31 It may be laid down as a position, that the abuse of any custom which is innocent in itself, is an evil, and that it may become a moral evil. And they conceive it to become a moral evil in the eye of Chris- tianity, when it occasions either the destruction of the health of individuals, or the misapplication of their time, or the excitement of their worst passions, or the loss of their moral character. If therefore the use of any custom be necessarily (which is the first of the two cases) connected with its abuse, and the abuse of it be the moral evil des- cribed, the user or practise:* cannot but incur a certain degree of guilt. This first case will comprehend all those uses of things, which go under the denomina- tion of gaming. If again, the use of a custom be either through the influence of fashion, or its own seductive nature, or any other cause, very generally (which is the second case) connected with its abuse, and the abuse be also of the nature supposed, then the user or practiser, if the custom be unnecessary, throws himself wantonly into danger of evil, contrary to the watchfulness which Christianity enjoins in morals; and, if he falls, falls by his own fault. This watchfulness against moral dan- ger the Quakers conceive to be equally incumbent upon christians, as Watchfulness upon persons against the common dangers of life. If two thirds of all the VOL.. 1. JL S3 MORAL EDUCATION. children, who had ever gone to the edge of a preci- pice to play, had fallen down and been injured, it would be a necessary prudence in parents to prohibit all such goings in future. So they conceive it to be o lily a necessary prudence in morals, to prohibit customs, where the use of them is very generally connected with a censurable abuse. This case will comprehend music, as practised at the present day, because they believe it to be injurious to health, to occasion a waste of time, to create an emulative dis- position, and to give an undue indulgence to sensual reeling. And as the Quakers conceive this species of argu- ment to be tenable in christian morals, so they hold it to be absolutely necessary to be adopted in the educa- tion of youth. For grown up persons may have sufficient judgment to distinguish between the use of a thing and its abuse. They may discern the boun- daries of each, and enjoy the one, while they avoid the other. But youth have no such power of discrimination. Like inexperienced mariners, they know not where to look for the deep and the shallow water, and, allured by enchanting circumstances, they may, like those who are reported to have been enticed by the voices of the fabulous Syrens, easily overlook the danger, that assuredly awaits them in their course > MORAL EDUCATION* 3.3 CHAP. IV SECT. I. The theatre — the theatre as -well as music abused— plays respectable in their origin — but degenerated — Solon, Plato, and the ancient moralists against them — particularly immoral in England in the time of Charles the second— forbidden by Gearge Fox — sentiments of Archbishop Tillotson — of JVilliam Law — English plays better than formerly , but still objectionable — prohibition of George Fox continued by the Quakers. XT is much to be lamented that customs, which originated in respectable motives, and which might have been made productive of innocent pleasure, should have been so perverted in time, that the con- tinuation of them should be considered as a grievance by moral men. As we have seen this to be the case, in some measure, with respect to music, so it is the case with respect to pla) T s. Dramatic compositions appear to have had no reprehensible origin. It certainly was an object with the authors of some of the earliest plays to combine the entertainment with the moral improvement of the 8* MORAL EDUCATION. mind. Tragedy was at first simply a monody to Bacchus. But the tragedy of the ancients, from which the modern is derived, did not arise in the world, till the dialogue and the chorus were intro- duced. Now the chorus, as ever}- scholar knows, was a moral office. They who filled it, were loud in their recommendations of justice and temperance. They inculcated a religious observance of the laws. They implored punishment on the abandoned. They were strenuous in their discouragement of vice, and in the promotion of virtue. This office therefore, being coeval with tragedy itself, preserves it from the charge of an immoral origin. Nor was corned}", which took its rise afterwards, the result of corrupt motives. In the most ancient comedies, we find it to have been the great object of the writers to attack vice. If a chief citizen had acted inconsistently with his character, he was ridi- culed upon the stage. His very name was not con- cealed on the occasion. In the course of time how- ever, the writers of dramatic pieces were forbidden to use the names of the persons, whom they proposed to censure. But we find them still adhering to the same great object, the exposure of vice ; and they painted the vicious character frequently so well, that the person was soon discovered by the audience, plough disguised by a fictitious name. When new MORAL EDUCATION. 8$ restrictions were afterwards imposed upon the writers of such pieces, they produced a new species of com- edy. This is that which obtains at the present day. It consisted of an imitation of the manners of common life. The subject, the names, and the characters, belonging to it, were now all of them feigned. Wri- ters, however, retained their old object of laughing at folly and of exposing vice. Thus it appears that the theatre, as far as tragedy was employed, inculcated frequently as good lessons of morality, as heathenism could produce, and as far as comedy was concerned, that it became often the next remedy, after the more grave and moral lectures of the ancient philosophers, against the prevailing ex- cesses of the times- But though the theatre professed to encourage virtue, and to censure vice, yet such a combination of injurious effects was interwoven with the represen- tations there, arising either from the influence of fiction upon morals, or from the sight of the degrada- tion of the rational character by buffoonery, or from the tendency of such representations to produce levity and dissipation, or from various other causes, that they, who were the greatest lovers of virtue in those days, and the most solicitous of improving the moral condition of man, began to consider them as produc- tive of much more evil than of good. Solon fore- 85 MORAL EDUCATION. warned Thespis, that the effects of such plays, as he saw him act, would become in time injurious to the morals of mankind, and he forbade him to act again. The Athenians, though such performances were after- wards allowed, would never permit any of their judg- es to compose a comedy. The Spartans under Lycur- gus, Who were the most virtuous of all the people of Greece, would not suffer either tragedies or comedies to be acted at all. Plato, as he had banished music, so he banished theatrical exhibitions from his pure republic. Seneca considered, that vice made insen- sible approaches by means of the stage, and that it stole on the people in the disguise of pleasure. The Romans, in their purer times, considered the stage to be so disgraceful, that every Roman was to be de- graded, who became an actor, and so pernicious to morals, that they put it under the power of a censor, to control its effects. But the stage, in the time of Charles the second, when the Quakers first appeared in the world, was in a worse state than even in the Grecian or Roman times. If there was ever a period in any country, when it was noted as the school of profligate and cor- rupt morals, it was in this reign. George Fox there- fore, as a christian reformer, could not be supposed to be behind the heathen philosophers, in a case where morality was concerned. Accordingly we MORAL EDUCATION. 87 ■find him protesting publicly against all such specta- cles. In this protest, he was joined by Robert Bar- clay and William Penn, two of the greatest men of those times, who in their respective publications at- tacked them with great spirit. These publications shewed the sentiments of the Quakers, as a religious body, upon this subject. It was understood that no Quaker could be present at amusements of this sort. And this idea was confirmed by the sentiments and advices of several of the most religious members, which were delivered on public occasons. By means of these publications and advices the subject was kept alive, till it became at length incorporated into the religious discipline of the Quakers. The theatre was then specifically forbidden ; and an inquiry was annually to be made from thenceforward, whether any of die members of the society had been found violating the prohibition. Since the time of Charles the second, when George Fox entered his protest against exhibitions of this sort, it must certainly be confessed, that an alteration has taken place for the better in the constitution of our plays, and that poison is not diffused into morals, by means of them, to an equal extent, as at that period. The mischief has been considerably circumscribed by legal inspection, and, it is to be hoped, by the im- proved civilization of the times. But it does not 38 MORAL EDUCATION. appear by any historical testimony we have, that a change has been made, which is at all proportioned to the quantity of moral light, which has been diffused among us since that reign. Archbishop Tillotson was of opinion, " that plays might be so framed, and they might be governed by such rules, as not only to be innocently diverting, but instructive and useful to put some follies and vices out of countenance, which could not perhaps be so decently reproved, nor so effectually exposed or corrected any other way." And yet he confesses, that, " they were so full of profaneness, and that they instilled such bad principles into the mind, in his own day, that they ought not to have been tolerated in any civilized, and much less in a christian nation." William Law, an eminent divine of the establishment, who lived after Tillitson, declared in one of his publications on the subject of the stage, that " you could not then see a play in either house, but what abounded with thoughts, passages, and language contrary to the christian religion." From the time of William Law to the present about forty years have elapsed, and we do not see, if we consult the controversial writers on the subject, who live among us, that the theatre has become much less objectionable since those days. Indeed if the names only of our modern plays were to be collected and published, they would teach us. MORAL EDUCATION. &9 to augur very unfavourably as to the morality of their contents. The Quakers therefore, as a religious body, have seen no reason, why they should differ in opinion from their ancestors on this subject : and hence the prohibition which began in former times with respect to the theatre., is continued by them at the present day. SECT. H. Theatre forbidden by the Quakers on account of the manner of the drama — -frst, as it personates tlie character of others — secondly, as it professes to re- form vice. X HE Quakers have many reasons to give, why, as a society of christians they cannot encourage the theatre, by being present a+ any of its exhibitions. I shall not detail all of them for the reader, but shall select such only, as I think most material to the point. The first class of arguments comprehends such as relate, to what may be called the manner of the drama. Vol. i- M 90 MORAL EDUCATION. The Quakers object to the manner of the drama, or to its fictitious nature, in consequence of vi hich men personate characters, that are not their own. This personification they hold to be injurious to the man, who is compelled to practise it. Not that he will par- take of the bad passions, which he personates, but that the trick and trade of representing what he does not feel, must make him at all times an actor ; and his looks, and words, and actions, will be all sophisticated. And this evil will be likely to continue with him in the various changes of his life. They hold it also to be contrary to the spirit of Christianity. For men who personate characters in this way, express joy and grief, when in reality there may be none of these feelings in their hearts. They express noble sentiments, when their whole lives may have been remarkable for their meanness, and go of- ten afterwards and wallow in sensual delights. They personate the virtuous character to day, and perhaps to-morrow that of the rake, and, in the latter case, they utter his profligate sentiments, and speak his profane language. Now Christianity requires sim- plicity and truth. It allows no man to pretend to be what he is not. And it requires great circumspec- tion of its followers with respect to what they may utter, because it makes every man accountable for his idle words, MORAL EDUCATION. Si The Quakers therefore are of opinion, that they cannot as men, either professing christian tenets, or christian love, encourage others to assume false cha- racters, or to (6 MORAL EDUCATION SECT. VI. Quakers conceive they can sanction no amusements r but such as could have originated in christian minds — exhibitions of the drama coidd have had, they believe, no such origin — early christians aban- doned them on their conversion — arguments of the latter on this subject, as taken from Tertullian, Minucius Felix, Cyprian > Lactantius and others. J_ HE Quakers conceive, as a christian society, that the} T ought to have nothing to do with any amuse- ments, but such as christians could have invented themselves, or such as christians could have sanction- ed, by becoming partakers of them. But they be- lieve that dramatic exhibitions are of such a nature as men of a christian spirit could never have invented or encouraged, and that, if the world were to begin again, and were to be peopled by pure christians, these exhibitions could never be called into existence there. This inference, the Quakers judge to be deducible from the nature of a christian mind. A man, who is in the habit, at his leisure hours, of looking into MORAL EDUCATION. 107 the vast and stupendous works of creation, of con- templating the wisdom, goodness, and power of the creator, of trying to fathom the great and magnificent plans of his providence, who is in the habit of survey- ing all mankind with the philosophy of revealed reli- gion, of tracing, through the same unerring channel, the uses and objects of their existence, the design of their different ranks and situations, the nature of their relative duties and the like, could never, in the opinion of* the Quakers, have either any enjoyment, or be concerned in the invention, of dramatic exhibi- tions. To a mind, in die habit of taking such an elevated flight, it is supposed that every thing on the stage must look little, and childish, and out of place. How could a person of such a mind be delighted with the musical note of a fiddler, the attitude of a dancer, the impassioned grimace of an actor ? How could the intrigue, or the love- sick tale of the com- position please him ? or how could he have imagined, that these could be the component parts of a chris- tian's joys ? But this inference is considered by the Quakers to be confirmed by the practice of the early christians; These generally had been Pagans. They had of course Pagan dispositions. They followed Pagan amusements, and, among these, the exhibitions of the stage. But soon after their conversion, that is, 108 MORAL EDUCATION. when they had received new minds, and when they had exercised these on new and sublime subjects, or, on subjects similar to those described, or, in other words, when they had received the regene- rated spirit of christians, they left the amusements of the stage, notwithstanding that, by this act of singu- larity in a sensual age, they were likely to bring upon themselves the odium and the reproaches of the world. But when the early christians abandoned the thea- tre, they abandoned it, as the Quakers contend, not because, leaving Paganism they were to relinquish all customs that were Pagan, but because they saw T in their new' religion, or because they saw in this newness of their minds, reasons, which held out such amusements to be inadmissible, while they consider- ed themselves in the light of christians. These reasons are sufficiently displayed by the writers of the second, third, and fourth centuries ; and as they ave alluded to by the Quakers, though never quoted, I shall give them to the reader. He will judge by these, how r far the ancient coincide with the modern christians upon this subject ; and how far these argu- ments of antiquity are applicable to modern times. The early christians, according to Tertullian, Menucius Felix, Cyprian, Lactantius, and others, believed, that the " motives for going to these amuse- ments were not of the purest sort. People went to MORAL EDUCATION. lo.» them without any view of the improvement of their minds. The motive was cither to see or to be seen." They considered the manner of the drama as ob- jectionable. They believed "that he who was the author of truth, could never approve of that which was false, and that he, who condemned hypocrisy, could never approve of him, who personated the cha- racter of others ; and that those therefore, who pre- tended to be in love, or to be angry, or to grieve, when none of those passions existed in their minds, were guilty of a kind of adultery in the eyes of tha Supreme Being." They considered their contents to be noxious. They " looked upon them as consistories of immorali- ty. They affirmed that things were spoken there which it did not become christians to hear, and that things were shewn there, which it did not become christians to see ; and that, while these things polluted those from whom they came, they polluted those in time, in whose sight and hearing they were shewn or spoken." They believed also, " that these things not only polluted the spectators, but that the representations of certain characters upon the stage pointed out to them the various roads to vice, and inclined them to become the persons, whom they had seen represent- ed, or to be actors in reality of what they had seen feigned upon the stage." LiO- MORAL EDUCATION. They believed again, " that dramatic exhibitions prpduced a frame of mind contrary to that, which should exist in a christian's breast ; that there was nothing to be seen upon the stage, that could lead or encourage him to devotion ; but, on the other hand, that the noise and fury of the play-house, and the representations there, produced a state of excitement, that disturbed the internal man. Whereas the spirit of a christian ought to be calm, and quiet, and com- posed, to fit it for the duties of religion." They believed also, " that such promiscuous as- semblages of men and women were not favourable to virtue; for that the sparks of the passions were there blown into a flame. " Tertullian, from whom some of the above opinions are taken, gives an invitation to those who were fond of public spectacles, in nearly the following terms. Are you fond, says he, of the scenic doctrine, or of theatrical sights and compositions ? We have plenty of books for you to read. We can give you works in prose and in verse. We can give you apothegms and hymns. We cannot to besure, give you fict'tious plots or fables, but we can give you truths. We cannot give you strophies, or the winding dances of the chorus, but we can give you simplici- ties, or plain and straight forward paths. Are you fond of seeing contests or trials for victory ? You shall see MORAL EDUCATION. ill these also, and such as are not trivial, but important- You may see, in our christian example, chastity over- coming immodesty. You may see faithfulness giving a death- wound to perfidy. You may see mercy get- ting the better of cruelty. You may see modesty and delicacy of sentiment overcoming impurity and impudence. These are the contests in which it be- comes us christians to be concerned, and where we ought to endeavour to receive the prize," CHAP. V.....SECT. I. Jbancing forbidden — Greeks and Romans differed on this subject — motive on which the Greeks encouraged dancing —motive on -which the moderns encouraged it — way in which the Quakers view it — the argu- ments which they use against it. JlxS the Quakers have thought it right to prohibit music, and stage-entertainments, to the society, so they have thought it proper to prohibit dancing, none of their children being allowed any instruction in the latter art. H2 MORAL EDUCATION. It is remarkable that two of the most civilized na- tions, as well as two of the wisest men of antiquity, should have differed in their opinions with respect to dancing. The Greeks considered it as a wise and an honourable employment ; and most of the nations therefore under that appellation inserted it into their system of education. The name of dancer was so honourable, as to be given to some of their gods. Statues are recorded to have been erected to good dancers. Socrates is said to have admired dancing so much, as to have learnt it n his old age. Dancing, on the other hand, was but little regarded at Rome. It was not admitted even within the pale of accom- plishments. It was considered at best as a sorry and trivial employment. Cicero says, " Nemo fere saltat sobrius, nisi forte insanit, neque in solitudine, neque in convivio honesto." That is, "No man dances, in private, or at any respectable entertainment, except he be drunk or mad." We collect at least from the above statement, that people of old, who were celebrated for their wisdom, came to very different conclusions with respect to the propriety of the encouragement of this art. Those nations among the ancients, which encou- .raged dancing, did it upon the principle, that it led to an agility of body, and a quickness of motion, that would be useful in military evolutions and exploits. MORAL EDUCATION. 113 Hence swiftness of foot was considered to be an epithet, as honourable as any that could be given to a warrior. The moderns, on the other hand, encourage dan- cing, or at least defend it upon different principles. They consider it as producing a handsome carriage of the body ; as leading to a graceful and harmonious use of the limbs ; and as begetting an erectness of po- sition, not more favourable to the look of a person that) to his health. That dancing produces dispositions of this sort cannot be denied, though certainly not to the extent, which many have imagined. Painters, who study nature the most, and are the best judges of the ap- pearance of the human frame, are of opinion, that modern dancing does not produce natural figures or at least such as they Would choose for their re- spective compositions. The military exercise has quite as great a share as dancing in the production of these dispositions. And there are certainly men, who were never taught either the military exercise or dancing, whose deportment is harmonious and graceful. The Quakers think it unnecessary to teach their children dancing, as an accomplishment, because they can walk, and carry their persons with sufficient ease and propriety without it. VOL. 1. p tU MORAL EDUCATION^ They think it unnecessary also, because, however the practice of it may be consistent with the spright- liness of youth, ' they could never sanction it in ma- turer age. They expect of the members of their society, that they should abandon amusements, and substitute useful and dignified pursuits, when they become men. But they cannot consider dancing but as an employment that is useless, and below the dignity of the christian character in persons, who have come to years of discretion. To initiate there- fore a youth of twelve or thirteen years of age into dancing, when he must relinquish it at twenty, would, in their opinion, be a culpable waste of his time. The Quakers, again, cannot view dancing abstract- edly, for no person teaches or practises it abstractedly ; but they are obliged to view it, in connection with other tilings. If they view it with its usual accompa- niment of music, it would be inconsistent, they think, to encourage it, when they have banished music from their republic. If they view it as connected with an assemblage of persons, they must, they conceive, equally condemn it. And here it is in fact, that they principally level their arguments against it. They prohibit all members of their society from being pre sent at balls, and assemblies ; and they think, if their youth are brought up in ignorance of the art of danc- ing, that this ignorance will operate as one preventative MORAL EDUCATION. 115 at least against attendances at amusements of this nature. The Quakers are as strict in their inquiry with respect to the attendances of any of their members at balls, as at theatrical amusements. They consider balls and assemblies among the vain amusements of the world. They use arguments against these near- ly similar to those which have been enumerated on the preceding subjects. They consider them in the first place, as productive of a kind of frivolous levity, and of thoughtlessness with respect to the important duties of life. They consider them, in the second place, as giving birth to vanity and pride. They consider them, again, as powerful in the excitement of some of the malevolent passions. Hence they believe them to be injurious to the religious interests of man ; for, by depriving him of comp acency of mind, and by increasing the growth of his bad feelings, they become impediments ■in the way of his improvement as a moral being, 116 MORAL EDUCATION SECT. II. Arguments of the Quakers examined — three cases made out for the determination of a moral philoso- pher — case the first — case the second — case the third. X PURPOSE to look into these arguments of the Quakers, and to see how far the}' can be supported. I will suppose therefore a few cases to be made out, and to be handed, one by one, to some moral philoso- pher for his decision. I will suppose this philosopher (that all prejudice of education may be excluded) to have been ignorant of the nature of dancing, but that he had been made acquainted With it, in order that he might be enabled to decide the point in question. Suppose then it was reported to this philosopher that, on a certain day, a number of young persons of both sexes, who had casually met at a friends house, instead of confining themselves to the room on a sum- mers afternoon, had walked out upon the green ; that a person present had invited them suddenly to dance ; that they had danced to the sound of musical vibra- tions for an hour, and that after this they had returned MORAL EDUCATION. 107 to the room, or that they had returned home. Would the philosopher be able to say in this case, that there was any thing in it, that incurred any of the culpable imputations, fixed upon dancing by the Quakers ? He could hardly, I think, make it out, that there could have been, in any part of the business, any opening for the charges in question. There appears to have been no previous preparations of extra- vagant dressing ; no premeditated design of setting off the person ; no previous methods of procuring admiration ; no circumstance, in short, by which he could reasonably suppose, that either pride or vanity could have been called into existence. The time also would appear to him to have been too short, and the circumstances too limited, to have given birth to im- proper feelings. He would certainly see that a sort of levity would have unavoidably arisen on the occa- sion, but his impartiality and justice would oblige him to make a distinction between the levity, that only exhilarates, and the levity that corrupts, the heart. Nor could he conceive that the dancing for an hour only, and this totally unlookcd for, could stand much in the way of serious reflection for the future. If he were desired to class this sudden danc- ing for an hour upon the green with any of the known pleasures of life, he would probably class it with an hours exercise in the fields, or with an hours game 118 MORAL EDUCATION. at play, or with an hours employment ii) some inno- cent recreation. But suppose now, that a new case were opened to the philosopher. Suppose it were told him, that the same party had been so delighted with their dance upon the green, that they lrad resolved to meet once a month for the purpose of dancing, and that they might not be prevented by bad weather, to meet in a public room ; that they had met according to their resolution ; that they had danced at their first meeting but for a short time ; but that at their meetings after- wards, they had got into the habit of dancing from eight or nine at night till twelve or one in the morning; that many of them now began to be unduly heated in the course of this long exercise ; that some of them in consequence of the heat in this crowded room, were* now occasionally ready to faint ; that it was now usual for some of them to complain the next morning of colds, others of hcad-achs, others of relaxed nerves, and almost all of them of a general lassitude or wea- riness — what could the philosopher say in the present case? The philosopher would now probably think, that they acted unreasonably as human beings ; that they turned night into day ; and that, as if the evils of life were not sufficient in number, they converted hours, which might have been spent calmly and comfortabh MORAL EDUCATION. 119 at home, into hours of indisposition and of unpleasant feelings to themselves. But this is not to the point. Would he or would he not say, that the arguments of the Quakers applied in the present case ? It certainly does not appear, from any thing that has yet transpired on this snbject, that he could, with any shadow of reason, accuse the persons, meeting on this occasion, of vanity or pride, or that he could see from any of the occurrences, that have been mentioned, how these evils could be produced. Neither has any thing )et come out, from which he could even imagine the sources of any improper passions. He might think perhaps, that they might be vexed for having brought fatigue and lassitude upon themselves, but he could see no opening for serious anger to others, or for any of the feelings of malevolence. Neither could he tell what occurrence to fix upon for the production of a frivolous levity. He would almost question, judging only from what has appeared in the last case, whether there might not be upon the whole more pain than pleasure from these meetings ; and whether those, who on the day subsequent to these meetings felt themselves indisposed, and their whole nervous system unbraced, were not so near the door of re- pentance, that serious thoughts would be more natural to them than those of a lighter kind. 1 10 MQ1?AL EDUCATION. But let us suppose one other case to be opened to the philosopher. Let us now suppose it to be stated to him, that those who frequented these monthly meetings, but particularly the females, had become habituated to talk, for a day or two beforehand, of nothing but of how they should dress themselves, or of what they should wear on the occasion : that some time had been spent in examining and canvassing the fashions ; that the milliner had been called in for this purpose ; that the imagination had been racked in the study of the decoration of the person ; that both on the morning and the after; -oon of the evening, on which they had publicly met to dance, they had been solely employed in preparations for decking themselves out ; that they had been nearly two hours under one dresser only, namely the hair-dresser ; that frequently at intervals they had looked at their own persons in the glass ; that they had walked up and down parading before it in admiration of their own appearance, and the critical detection of any little fold in their dress, which might appear to be out of place, and in the adjustment of the same — what would the philosopher say in this new case ? He certainlv could not view the case with the same complacent countenance as before. He would feel, seme symptoms of alarm. He would begin to think that the truth of the Quaker-arguments was unfolding MORAL EDUCATION. t21 itself, and that what appeared to him to have been an innocent amusement, at the first, might possibly be capable of being carried out of the bounds of innocence by such and similar accompaniments. He could not conceive, if he had any accurate knowledge of the human heart, that such an extraordinary attention to dress and the decoration of the person, or such a critical examination of these with a view of procuring admiration, could produce any other fruits than con- ceit and affectation, or vanity and pride. Nor could he conceive that all these preparations, all this pre- vious talk, all this previous consultation, about the fashions, added to the employment itself of the de- coration of the person, could tend to any thing else than to degrade the mind, and to render it light and frivolous. He would be obliged to acknowledge also, that minds, accustomed to take so deep an inter- est in the fashions and vanities of the world, would not only loath, but be disqualified for serious reflection. But if he were to acknowledge, that these preparations and accompaniments had on any one occasion a natural tendency to produce these effects, he could not but consider these preparations, if made once a month, as likely to become in time systematic nurseries for frivolous and affected characters. Having traced the subject up to a point, where it appears, that some of the Quaker-arguments begin, Vol. i. Q 122 MORAL EDUCATION. to bear, let us take leave of our philosopher, and as we have advanced nearly to the ball-room door, let us enter into the room itself, and see if any circum- stances occur there, which shall enable us to form a better judgment upon it. SECT. III. Arguments of the Quakers still farther examined — in- terior of the ball-room displayed — view of the rise of many of the malevolent passions — these rise higher and are more painful, than they are generally ima- gined — hence it is torohable that the spectators are better pleased than those interested in the^e dances — conclusion of the arguments of the Quakers on this subject. X AM afraid I shall be thought more cynical than just, more prejudiced than impartial, more given to censure than to praise, if in temples, apparently dedi- cated to good humour, cheerfulness and mirth, I should say that sources were to be found, from whence we could trace the- rise of immoral passions. MORAL EDUCATION, 123 But human nature is alike in all places, and, if cir- cumstances should arise in the ball-room, which touch as it were the strings of the passions, they will as naturally throw out their tone there as in other places. Why should envy, jealousy, pride, malice, anger, or revenge, shut themselves out exclush ely from these resorts, as if these were more than ordi- narily sacred, or more than ordinary repositories of human worth. In examining the interior of a ball-room it must be confessed, that we shall certainly find circum- stances occasionally arising, that give birth to feelings neither of a pleasant nor of a moral nature. It is not unusual, for instance, to discover among the females one that excels in the beauty of her person, and ano- ther that excels in the elegance of her dress. The eyes of all are more than proportionally turned upon these for the whole night. This little circumstance soon gen rates a variety of improper passions. It calls up vanity and conceit in the breasts of these objects of admiration. It raises up envy and jea- lousy, and even anger in some of the rest. These become envious of the beauty of the former, envi- ous of their taste, envious of their cloathing, and, above al', jealous of the admiration bestowed upon them. In this evil state of mind one passion begets another ; and instances have occurred, where some iZi MORAL EDUCATION. of these have felt displeased at the apparent coldness and indifference of their own partners, because they have appeared to turn their eyes more upon the fa- vourites of the night, than upon themselves. In the same room, when the parties begin to take their places to dance ; other little circumstances not unfrequently occur, which give rise to other passions. Many aiming to be as near the top of the dance as possible, are disappointed of their places by others, who have just stept into them, dissatisfaction, and rvmetimes mum urs, follow. Each in his own mind, oses his claims and pretensions to the higher : to be stronger on account of his money, his liis profession, or his rank. Thus his own dispositions to pride are only the more nursed and fostered. Malice too is often engendered on the occasion ; and though the parties would not be allow- ed by the master of the ceremonies to disturb the tranquillity of the room, animosities have sometimes sprung up between them, which have not been healed in a little time, I am aware that in some large towns of the kingdom regulations are made with a view to the prevention of these evils, but it is in some only ; and even where they are made, though they prevent outward rude behaviour, they do not prevent inward dissatisfaction. Monied influence still feels itself often debased by a lower place. MORAL EDUCATION. 125 If we were to examine the ball-room farther, we should find new circumstances arising to call out new and degrading passions. We should find disap- pointment and discontent often throwing irritable matter upon the mind. Men, fond of dancing, frequently find an over proportion of men, and but few females in the room, and women, wishing to dance, sometimes find an over proportion of women, and but few men ; so that partners are not to be had for all, and a number of each class must make up their minds to sit quietly, and to loose their diversion for the night. Partners too are frequently dissatisfied with each other. One thinks his partner too old, another too ugly, another below him. Matched often in this unequal manner, they go down the dance in a sort of dudgeon, having no cordial disposition to- wards each other, and having persons before their eyes in the same room with whom they could have cordially danced. Nor are instances wanting where the pride of some has fixed upon the mediocrity of others, as a reason, why they should reluctantly lend them their hands, when falling in with them in the dance. The slight is soon perceived, and disgust arises in both parties. Various other instances might be mentioned, where very improper passions are excited. I shall only observe, however, that these passions are generally 1.26 MORAL EDUCATION". stronger and give more uneasiness, and are called uf> to a greater height, than might generally be imagined from such apparently slight causes. In many instan- ces indeed they have led to such serious misunder- standings, that they were only terminated by the duel. From this statement I may remark here, though mv observation be not immediately to the point, that there is not probably that portion of entertainment, or that substantial pleasure, which people expected to find at these monthly meetings. The little jealousies arising about precedency, or about the admiration of one more than of another ; the falling in occasionally with disagreeable partners ; the slights and omissions that are often thought to be purposely made ; the head-achs, colds, sicknesses, and lassitude afterwards, must all of them operate as so many drawbacks from this pleasure : and it is not unusual to hear persons, fond of such amusements, complaining afterwards that they had not answered. There is therefore pro- bablv more pleasure in the preparations for such amusements, and in the previous talk about them, than in the amusements themselves. It is also probable that the greatest pleasure felt in the ball-room, is felt by those, who get into i' as spectators only. These receive pleasure from the music, from the beat of the steps in unison with it, but particularly from the idea that all, who join in the MORAL EDUCATION. 127 dance, are happy. These considerations produce in the spectator cheerfulness and mirth ; and these are continued to him more pure and unalloyed than in the former case, because he can have no drawbacks" from the admission into his own breast of any of those uneasy, immoral passions, above described. But to return to the point in question. The reader has now had the different cases laid before him as determined by the moral philosopher. He has been conducted also through the interior of the ball-room. He will have perceived therefore that the arguments of the Quakers have gradually unfolded themselves, and that they are more or less conspicuous, or more or less true, as dancing is viewed abstractedly, or in connection with the preparations and accompani- ments, that may be interwoven with it. If it be viewed in connection with these preparations and accompaniments, and if these should be found to be so inseparably connected with it, that they must in- variably go together, which is supposed to be the case where it is introduced into the ball-room, he will have no difficulty in pronouncing that, in this case, it is objectionable as a christian recreation. For it cannot be doubted that it has an immediate tendency, in this case, to produce a frivolous levity, to generate vaiuty and pride, and to call up passions of the malevolent kind. Now in this point of view 128 MORAL EDUCATION. it is, that the Quakers generally consider dancing. They never view it, as I observed before, abstractedly, or solely by itself. They have therefore forbidden it to their society, believing it to be the duty of a christian to he serious in his conversation and deport- ment ; to afford an example of humility ; and to be watchful and diligent in the subjugation of his evil passions. MORAL EDUCATION. AW CHAP. VL JVovels — novels forbidden — their fictitious nature rio argument against them — arguments of the Quakers are, that they produce an affectation of knowledge — a romantic spirit — and a perverted morality — and that by creating an indisposition towards other kinds of reading, they prevent moral improvement and real delight of mind — hence novel-reading more pernicious than many other apiusements. jljlMONG the prohibitions, which the Quakers have adopted in their moral education, as barriers against vice, or as preservatives of virtue, I shall consider that next, which relates to the perusal of improper books. George Fox seems to have forgot- ten nothing, that was connected with the morals of the society. He was anxious for the purity of its cha- racter, he seemed afraid of every wind that blew, lest it should bring some noxious vapour to defile it. And as those things which were spoken or represent- ed, might corrupt the mind, so those which were written and printed, might equally corrupt it also- He recommended therefore, that the youth of his VOL. 1 R 130. MORAL EDUCATION. newly formed society should abstain from the reading of romances. William Penn and others, expressed the same sentiments on this subject. And the same opinion has been held by the Quakers, as a body of christians, down to the present day. Hence novels, as a particular species of romance, and as that which is considered as of the worst tendency, have been particularly marked for prohibition. Some Quakers have been inclined to think, that novels ought to be rejected on account of the ficti- tious nature of their contents. But this consideration is, by no means, generally adopted by the society, as an argument against them- Nor. would it be a sound argument, if it were. If novels contain no evil with- in themselves, or have no evil tendency, the mere circumstance of the subject, names or characters being feigned, will not stamp them as censurable. Such fiction will not be like the fiction of the drama, where men act and personate characters that are not their own. Different men, in different ages of the world, have had recourse to different modes of writ- ing, for the promotion of virtue. Some have had recourse to allegories, others to fables. The fables of JEsop, though a fiction from the beginning to the end, have been useful to many. But we have a pe- euliai instance of the use and innocence of fictitious descriptions in the sacred writings. For the author MORAL EDUCATION. 131 of the christian religion made use of parables on many and weighty occasions. We cannot therefore con- demn fictitious biography, unless it condemn itself by becoming a destroyer of morals. The arguments against novels, in which the Qua- kers agree as a body, are taken from the pernicious influence they have upon the minds of those, who read them. The Quakers do not say, that all novels have this influence, but that they have it generally. The great demand for novels, inconsequence of the taste, which the world has shewn for this species of writing, has induced persons of all descriptions, and of course many who have been but ill qualified to write them. Hence, though some novels have appeared of consi- derable merit, the worthless have been great'y pre- ponderant. The demand also has occasioned foreign novels, of a complexion by no means suited to the good sense and character of our country, to be trans- lated into our language. Hence a fresh weight has on- ly been thrown into the preponderating scale. From these two causes it has happened, that the contents of a great majority of our novels have been unfavour- able to the improvement of the moral character. Now when we consider this circumstance, and when we consider likewise, that professed novel-readers generally read all the compositions of this sort that 13-2 MORAL EDUCATION. come into their way, that they wait for no selection, but that they devour the good, the bad, and the indif- ferent alike, we shall see the reasons, which have in- duced the Quakers to believe, that the effect of this species of writing upon the mind has been generally pernicious. One of the effects, which the Quakers consider to be produced by novels upon those who read them, is an affectation of knowledge, which leads them to become forward and presumptuous. This effect is- highly injurious, for while it raises them unduly in their own estimation, it lowers them in that of the world. Nothing can be more disgusting, in the opin- ion of the Quakers, than to see persons assuming the authoritative appearance of men and women before their age or their talents can have given them any pretensions to do it. Another effect is the following. The Quakers conceive that there is among professed novel readers a peculiar cast of mind. They observe in them a romantic spirit, a sort of wonder-loving imagination, and a disposition towards enthusiastic flights of the fancy, which to sober persons lias the appearance of a temporary derangement. As the former effect must become injurious by producing forwardness, so this must become so by producing unsteadiness, of character, MORAL EDUCATION. 133 A third effect, which the Quakers find to be pro- duced among this description of readers, is conspicu- ous in a perverted morality. They place almost every virtue in feeling, and in the affectation of benevolence. They consider these as the true and only sources of good. They make these equivalent to moral prin- ciple. And actions flowing from feeling, though feeling itself is not always well founded, and some- times runs into compassion even against justice, they class as moral duties arising from moral principles. They consider also too frequently the laws of reli- gion as barbarous restraints, and which their new notions of civilized refinement may relax at will. And they do not hesitate, in consequence, to give a colour to some fashionable vices, which no christian painter would admit into any composition, which was his own. To this it may be added, that, believing their own knowledge to be supreme, and their own system of morality to be the only enlightened one, they fall often into scepticism, and pass easily from thence to infide- lity. Foreign novels, however, more than our own, have probably contributed to the production of this latter effect. These then are frequently the evils, and those which the Quakers insist upon, where persons devote their spare-time to the reading of novels, but more parti- t34 MORAL EDUCATION. ^ularly among females, Mho, on account of the great- er delicacy of their constitutions, are the more suscep- tible of such impressions. These effects the Quakers consider as particularly frightful, when they fall upon this sex. For an affectation of knowledge, or a for- wardness of character, seems to be much more disgusting among women than among men. It may be observed also, that an unsteady or romantic spirit or a wonder-loving or flighty imagination, can never qualify a woman for domestic duties, or make her a sedate and prudent wife. Nor can a relaxed mo- rality qualify her for the discharge of her duty as a parent in the religious education of her children. But, independently of these, there is another evil, which the Quakers attach to novel-reading, of a nature too serious to be omitted in this account. It is that those who are attached to this species of reading, be- come indisposed towards any other. This indisposition arises from the peculiar con- struction of novels. Their structure is similar to that of dramatic compositions. They exhibit charac- ters to view. They have their heroes and heroines in the same manner. They lay open the checkered incidents in the lives of these. They interweave into iheir histories the powerful passion of love. By animated language, and descriptions which glow with sympathy, they rouse the sensibility of the reader, and MORAL EDUCATION. U5 fill his soul with interest in the tale. They fascinate therefore in the same manner as plays. They pro* duce also the same kind of (g) mental stimulus, or the same powerful excitement of the mind. Hence It is that this indisposition is generated. For if other- books contain neither characters, nor incidents, nor any of the high seasoning, or gross stimulants, which belong to novels they become insipid. It is difficult to estimate the injury which is done to persons, by this last mentioned eifect of novel- reading upon the mind. For the contents of our best books consist usually of plain and sober narrative. Works of this description give no extravagant repre- sentations of things, because their object is truth* They are found often without characters or catastro- phies, becau e these would be often unsuitable to the nature of the subject of which they treat. They contain repellants rather than stimulants, because their design is the promotion of virtue. The novel-reader (g) I have been told by a physician of the first eminence, that music s»d novels have clone more to produce the sickly countenances and nervous habits of our highly educated females, than any other causes that can be assigned. The excess of stimulus on the mind from the interesting and melting tales, that are peculiar to novels, affects the organs of the body, and relaxes the tone of the nerves, in the same man ner as the melting tones of music have been described to act upon the constitution, after the sedentary employment necessary for skill in that science, has injursd it 1^6 .MORAL EDUCATION. therefore, by becoming indisposed towards these; excludes himself from moral improvement, and de- prives himself of the most substantial pleasure, which reading can produce. In vain do books on the study of nature unfold to him the treasures of the mineral or the vegetable world. He foregoes this addition to his knowledge, and this innocent food for his mind. In vain do books on science lay open to him the constitution and the laws of the motion of bodies. This constitution and these laws are still mysteries to him. In vain do books on religion dis- cover to him the true path to happiness. He has still this path to seek. Neither, if he Mere to dip into works like these, but particularly into those of the latter discription, could he enjoy them. This latter consideration makes the reading of novels a more pernicious employment than many others. For though there may be amusements, which may some- times produce injurious effects to those, who par- take of them, yet these may be counteracted by the perusal of works of a moral tendency. The effects, on the other hand, which are produced by the reading of novels, seem to admit of no corrective or cure ; for how, for instance, shall a perverted morality, which is considered to be one of them, be rectified, if the book which is to contain the advice for this pur- pose, be so uninteresting, or insipid, that the persons in question have no disposition to peruse it ? MORAL EDUCATION, %W; CHAP. VII SECT. I. Diversions of the field— diversions of the field for- bidden — general thoughtlessness on this subject — ■ sentiments of Thomson — sentiments of George Fox — of Edward Burroughs — similar * sentiments of Cowper — law of the society on the subject. HE diversions of the field are usually followed by people, without any consideration, whether they are justifiable, either in the eye of morality or of rea- son. Men receive them as the customs of their ancestors, and they are therefore not likely to entertain doubts concerning their propriety. The laws of the country also sanction them ; for we 'md regulations and qualifications on the subject. Those also who attend these diversions, are so numerous, and their rank, and station, and character, are often such, that they sanction them again by their example, so that few people think of making any inquiry, how far they are allowable as pursuits. But though this general thoughtlessness prevails upon this subject, and though many have fallen into these diversions as into the common customs of the world, yet benevolent and religious individuals have Vol, i. S 1 38 MORAL EDUCATION. not allowed them to pass unnoticed, nor been back- ward in their censures and reproofs. It has been matter of astonishment to some, how men, who have the powers of reason, can waste their time in galloping after dogs, in a wild and tumultuous manner, to the detriment often of their neighbours, and to the hazard of their own lives; or how men, who are capable of high intellectual enjoyments, can derive pleasure, so as to join in shouts of triumph,, on account of the death of an harmless animal; or how men, who have organic feelings, and who know that other living creatures have the same, can make an amusement of that, \\ hich puts brute-animals t© pain. Good poets have spoken the language of enlight- ened nature upon this subject. Thomson in his Seasons, introduces the diversions of the field in the following manner. " Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy, The gun fast-thund'ring, and the winded horn, Would tempt the muse to sing the rural game." But further on he observes, " These are not subjects for the peaceful muse, Nor will she stain with such her spotless song » Then most delighted, when she social sees The whole mix'd animal-creation round MORAL EDUCATION. 139 Alive and happy ; 'Tis not joy to her This falsely cheerful barbarous game of death.** Cowper, in his task, in speaking in praise of the country; takes occasion to express his disapprobation of one of the diversions in question. " They love the country, and none else, who seek For their own sake its silence and its shade, Delights, which who would leave, that has a heart Susceptible of pity, or a mind, Cultur'd, and capable of sober thought, For all the savage din of the swift pack And clamours of the field ? Detested sport ! That owes its pleasures to another's pain, That feeds upon the sobs and dying shrieks Of harmless nature, dumb, but yet endued With eloquence, that agonies inspire Of silent tears, and heart-distending sighs ! " Vain tears alas ! and sighs, that never find A corresponding tone in jovial souls \ In these sentiments of the poets the Quakers, as a religious body, have long joined. George Fox spe- cifically reprobated hunting and hawking, which were the field diversions of his own time. He had always shewn, as I stated in the introduction, a tender dis- position to brute-animals, by reproving those, who had treated them improperly in his presence. He considered these diversions, as unworthy of die time 140 MORAL EDUCATION, . and attention of men, who ought to have much higher objects of pursuit. He believed also, that real chris- tians could never follow them ; far a christian was a renovated man, and a renovated man could not but know the works of creation better, than to subject them to his abuse. Edward Burroughs, who lived at the same time, and was an able minister of the society, joined George Fox in his sentiments with respect to the treatment of animals, He considered diat man in the fall, or the apostate man, had a vision so indistinct and vitiat- ed that he could not see the, animals of the crea- tion, as he ought, but that the man, who was restored, or the spiritual christian, had a new and clear dis- cernment concerning them, which would oblige him to consider and treat them in a proper manner. This idea of George Fox and of Edward Burroughs seems to have been adopted or patronized by the Poet Cowper* " Thus harmony, and family accord, Were driven from Paradise ; and in that hour The seeds of cruelty, that since have swell'd To such gigantic and enormous growth, Were sown in human natures fruitful soil. * c Hence date the persecution and the pain, That man inflicts on all inferior kinds, Regardless of their plaints. To make him sport> MORAL EDUCATION. To gratify the frenzy of his wrath, Or his base gluttony, are causes good, And just, in his account, why bird and beast Should suffer torture " Thus the Quakers censured these diversions from the first formation of their society, and laid down such moral principles with respect to the treatment of ani- mals, as were subversive of their continuance. These principles continued to actuate all true Quakers, who were their successors ; and they gave a p oof, in their own conduct, that they were influenced by them, not Only in treating the different animals under their care with tenderness, but in abstaining from all diversions in which their feelings could be hurt. The diversions however, of the field, notwithstanding that this prin- ciple of the brute- creation had been long recognized, and that no person of approved character in the socie- ty followed them, began in time to be resorted to occasionally by the young and thoughtless members, either out of curiosity, or with a view of trying them, as means of producing pleasure. These deviations, however from the rue spirit of Quakerism became at length known. And th'e Quakers, that no excuse might be left to any for engaging in such pursuits again, came to a resolution in one of their yearly meet- ings, giving advice upon the subject in the following: words. 142 MORAL EDUCATION. (h) " We clearly rank the practice of hunting and shooting for diversion with vain sports ; and we be- lieve the awakened mind may see, that even the leisure of those whom providence hath permitted to have a competence of worldly goods, is but ill filled up with these amusements. Therefore, being not only ac- countable for our substance, but also for our time, let our leisure be employed in serving our neighbour, and not in distressing the creatures of God for our amusement. " I shall not take upon me to examine the different reasons upon which we find the foundation of this law. I shall not enquire how far a man's substance, or rather his talent, is wasted or misapplied, in feed- ing a number of dogs in a costly manner, while the poor of the neighbourhood may be starving, or how far the galloping after these is in the eye of Christianity a misapplication of a person's time. I shall adhere only to that part of the argument, how far a person has a right to make a (?) pleasure of that, which oc- (h) Book of Extracts, (i) The Quakers and the poet Cowper likewse, in their laudable zeal for the happiness of the brute-creation, have given an improper description of the nature of the crime of these diversions. They have made it to consist in a man's deriving pleasure from the sufferings of the animals in question, whereas it should have been made to consist in his making a pleasure of a pursuit which puts them to pain. The most abandoned sportsman, it is to be presumed, never hunts them because he enjoys their sufferings. His pleasure arises from considerations of another nature. MORAL EDUCATION. 143 casions pain and death to the animal- creation : and I shall shew in what manner the Quakers argue upon this subject, and how they persuade themselves, that they have no right to pursue such diversions, but particularly when they consider themselves as a body of professing christians. SECT. II. Diversions of the field judged firrt by the morality of the Old Testament — original charter to kill ani- mals — condition annexed to it — sentiments of Cow- per — rights and duties springing from this chapter — violation of it the violation of a moral law — diversions in question not allowable by this standard. X HE Quakers usually try the lawfulness of field- diversions, which include* hunting and shooting, by two standards, and first by the morality of the old Testament. They believe in common with other christians, that men have a right to take away the lives of animals for their food. The great creator of the universe, to whom 1 44 MORAL EDUCATION. every thing that is in it belongs, gave to Noah and his descendants a grant or charter for this purpose. In this charter no exception is made. Hence wild ani- mals a.e included in it equally with the tame. And hence a hare may as well be killed, if people have occasion for food, as a chicken or a lamb. They believe also that, when the creator of the uni- verse gave men dominion aver the whole brute-crea- tion, or delivered this creation into their hands, he intended them the right of destroying such animals, as circumstances warranted them in supposing would become injurious to themselves. The preservation of themselves, which is the first law of nature, and the preservation of other animals under their care, created this new privilege. But though men have the power given them over the lives of animals, there is a condition in the same charter, that they shall take them with as little pain as possible to the creatures. If the death of animals is to be made serviceable to men, the least they can do in return is to mitigate their sufferings, while they ex- pire. This obligation the Supreme Being imposed upon those, to whom he originally gave the charter, by the command of not eating their flesh, while the life's blood was in it. The Jews obliged all their con- verts to religion, even the proselytes of the gate, who were not considered to be so religious as the proselytes MORAL EDUCATION. 145 of the covenant, to observe what they called the se- venth commandment of Noah, or that " they should (k) not eat the member of any beast that was taken from it, while it was alive.'' This law therefore of blood, whatever other objects it might have in view, enjoined that, while men were engaged in the distres- ing task of taking away the life of an animal, they should respect its feelings, by abstaining fiom torture, or all unnecessary pain. (/) On Noah, and in him on all mankind The Charter was conferr'd, by which we hold The flesh of animals in fee, and claim O'er all we feed on pow'r of life and death. But read the instrument, and mark it well. The oppression of a tyrannous control Can find no warrant there. Feed then, and yield Thanks for thy food. Carnivorous, through sin, Feed on the slain, but spare the living brute." (i) It seems almost impossible, that men could be so depraved, as to take flesh to eat from a poor animal, while alive ; and yet from the law enjoined to proselytes of the gate it is probable, that it was the case. — Bruce, whose travels into Abyssynia are gaining 1 in credit, asserts that such customs obtained there. And the Harleian Miscellany, vol. 6. P. 126, in which is a modern account of Scotland, written in 1670, states the same practice as having- existed in our own island. (7) Cowper. VOL. 1- T u6 ' MORAL EDUCATION. From this charter, and from the great condition annexed to it, the Quakers are of opinion that rights and duties have sprung up ; rights on behalf of ani- mals, and duties on the part of men ; and that a breach of these duties, however often, or however thought- lessly it may take place, is a breach of a moral law. For this charter did not relate to those animals only, which lived in the particular country of the Jews, but to those in all countries wherever Jews might exist. Nor was the observance of it confined to the Jews only, but it was to extend to the Proselytes of the covenant and the gate. Nor was the observance of it confined to these Proselytes, but it was to extend to all nations ; because all animals of the same species are in all countries organized alike, and have all simi- lar feelings ; and because all animals of every kind are susceptible of pain. In trying the law fulness of the diversions of the field, as the Quakers do by this charter, and the great condition that is annexed to it, I purpose, in order to save time, to confine myself to hunting, for this will appear to be the most objectionable, if examined in this manner. It must be obvious then, that hunting, event in the case of hares, is seldom followed for the purposes of food. It is uncertain in the first place, whether in the course of the chase they can be preserved whole when $IORAL EDUCATION. 147 they are taken, so as to be fit to be eaten. And, in the second, it may be observed, that we may see fifty horsemen after a pack of hounds, no one of whom has any property in the pack, nor of course any right to the prey. These cannot even pretend, that their object is food, either for themselves or others. Neither is hunting, where foxes are the objects in view, pursued upon the principle of the destruction of noxious animals. For it may be observed, that rewards are frequently offered to those, who will pro- cure them for the chase : that large woods or covers are frequently allotted them, that they may breed, and perpetuate their species for the same purposes, and that a poor man in the neighbourhood of a fox- hunter, would be sure to experience his displeasure, if he were caught in the destruction of any of these animals. With respect to the mode of destroying them in either of these cases, it is not as expeditious, as it might be made by other means. It is on the other hand, peculiarly cruel. A poor animal is fol- lowed, not for minutes, but frequently for an hour, and sometimes for hours, in pain and agony. Its sufferings begin with its first fear. Under this fear, perpetually accompanying it, it flies from the noise of horses, and horsemen, and the cries of dogs. It pants for breath, till the panting becomes difficult and 140 MORAL EDUCATION. painful. It becomes wearied even to misery, yet dares not rest. And under a complication of these sufferings, it is at length overtaken, and often literally torn to pieces by its pursuers. Hunting therefore does not appear, in the opinion of the Quakers, to be followed for any of those pur- poses, which alone, according to the original charter, give mankind a right over the lives of brutes. It is neither followed for food, nor for prevention of injury to man, or to the creatures belonging to him. Nei- ther is life taken away by means of it, as mercifully as it ought to be, according to the meaning of the (?n) great condition. But if hunting be not justifiable, when examined upon these principles, it can never be justifiable in the opinion of the Quakers, when it is followed en the principle of pleasure, all destruction of animal- life upon this last principle, must come within the charge of wanton cruelty, and be considered as a violation of a moral law. (m) The netting of animals for food, is perfectly unobjectionable upon these principles- MORAL EDUCATION. .49 SECT. III. Diversions of the field judged by the morality of the New -Testament — the renovated man or christian has a clearer knowledge of creation and of its uses — he views animals as the creatures of God — hence he finds animals to have rights independently of any written law — he collects again new rights from the benevolence of his new feelings — and new rights again from the written word of revelation. X HE Quakers try the lawfulness of these diversions again by the morality of the New- Testament. They adopt, in the first place, upon this occasion, the idea of George Fox and of Edward Burroughs, which has been already stated ; and they follow it up in the man- ner which I shall now explain. They believe that a man under the new covenant, or one who is really a christian, is a renovated mam As long as Adam preserved his primeval innocence, or continued in the image of his Maker, his spiritual vision was clear. When he lost this image, it be- came dim, short, and confused. This is the case, the Quakers believe, with every apostate or wicked I5Q MORAL EDUCATION. man. He sees through a vitiated medium. He sees of course nothing of the harmony of the creation. He has but a confused knowledge of the natures and ends of things. These natures and these ends he ne- ver examines as he ought, but in the confusion of his moral vision, he abuses and perverts them. Hence it generally happens, that an apostate man is cruel to his brute. But in proportion as he is restored to the divine image, or becomes as Adam was before he fell, or in proportion as he exchanges earthly for spiri- tual views, he sees all things through a clearer medi- um. It is then, the Quakers believe, that the creation is open to him, and that he finds his creator has made nothing in vain. It is then that he knows the natures of things ; that he estimates their uses and their ends, and that he will never stretch these beyond their pro- per bounds. Beholding animals in this sublime light, he will appreciate their strength, their capacities, and their feelings ; and he will never use them but for the purposes intended by providence. It is then that the creation will delight him. It is then that he will find a growing love to the animated objects of it. And this knowledge of their natures, and this love of them, will oblige him to treat them with tender- ness and respect. Hence all animals will have a se- curity in the breast of every christian or renovated ?nan ag.iinst oppression or abuse. He will never MORAL EDUCATION. 151 destroy them wantonly, nor put them to unnecessarv pain. Now the Quakers are of opinion, that every person, who professes Christianity, ought to view things as the man, who is renovated, would view them, and that it becomes them therefore in particu • lar, as a body of highly professing christians, to view them in the same manner. Hence they uniformly look upon animals, not as brute-machines, to be used at discretion, but as the creatures of God, of whose existence the use and intention ought always to be considered, and to whom duties arise out of this spiritual feeling, independently of any written law in the Old- Testament, or any grant or charter, by which their happiness might be secured. The Quakers therefore, viewing animals in this light, believe that they are bound to treat them accordingly.. Hence the instigation of two horses by whips and spurs for a trial of speed, in consequence of a mo- nied stake, is considered by the Quakers to be cri- minal. The horse was made for the use of man, to carry his body and to transport his burdens ; but he was never made to engage in painful conflicts with other horses on account of the avarice of his owner. Hence the pitting together of two cocks for a trial of victory is considered as equally criminal. For the cock, whatever may be his destined object among the winged creation, has been long useful toman in awa- 1 52 MORAL EDUCATION. kening him from unseasonable slumber, and in sounding to him the approach of day. But it was never intended, that he should be employed to the injury and destruction of himself, or to the injury and destruction of his own species. In the same manner the Quakers condemn the hunting of animals, except on the plea of necessity, or that they cannot be destroyed, if their death be required, in any other way. For whatever may be their several uses, or the several ends of their existence in creation, they were never created to be so used by man, that they should suffer, and this entirely for his sport. Whoever puts animals to cruel and unnatural uses, disturbs, in the opinion of the Quakers, the harmony of the creation, and offends God. The Quakers in the second place, are of opinion that the renovated man must have, in his own bene- volent spirit, such an exalted sense of the benevolent spirit of the Creator, as to believe, that he never con- stituted any part of animated nature, without assign- ing it its proper share of happiness during the natural time of its existence, or that it was to have its moment, its hour, its day, or its year of pleasure. And, if this be the case, he must believe also, that any inter- ruption of its tranquillity, va ithout the plea of neces- sity, must be an innovation of its rights as a living being. MORAL EDUCATION. The Quakers believe also, that the renovated man. who loves all the works of the creator, will carry every divine law, which has been revealed to him, as far as it is possible to be carried on account of a similarity of natures through all animated creation, and particu- larly that law, which forbids him to do to another, what he would dislike to be done unto himself. Now this law is founded on the sense of bodily, and on the sense of the mental feelings. The mental feelings of men and brutes, or the reason of man and the instinct of animals, are different. But their bodily feelings are alike ; and they are in their due proportions, sus- ceptible of pain. The nature therefore of man and of animals is alike in this particular. He can anticipate and know their feelings by his own. He cannot therefore subject them to any action unnecessarily, if on account of a similar construction of his own or- gans, such an action would produce pain to himself, His own power of feeling strongly commands sympa- thy to all that can feel : and that general sympathy, which arises to a man, when he sees pain inflicted on the person of any individual of his own species, will arise, in the opinion of the Quakers, to the renovated man, when he sees it inflicted on the bodv of a brute 154 MORAL EDUCATION CHAP. VIII. Objections started by philosophical moralists to the preceding sy item of education — this system a pro- hibitory one — prohibitions sometimes the cause of greater evik than they prevent — they may confuse morality — and break the spirit — they render the vicious more vicious — and are not to be relied upon as effectual, because built on a false foundation — igno- rance no guardian of virtue — causes, not sub-caus- es, are to be contended against — no certain security but in knowledge and a love of virtue — prohibitions'* where effectual, produce but a sluggish virtue. HAVE now stated the principal prohibitions, that are to be found in the moral education of the Quakers, and I have annexed to these the various reasons, which the Quakers themselves give, why they were introduced into their society. I have there- fore finished this part of my task, and the reader will expect me to proceed to the next subject. But as I am certain that many objections will be started here, I shall stop for a few minutes to state, and to consider them. MORAL EDUCATION. ' !<** The Quakers differ 011 the subject of moral educa- tion, very materially from the world, and indeed from those of the world, who having had a more than ordinarily liberal education, may be supposed to have, in most cases, a more than ordinarily correct judg- ment. The Quaker system, as we have seen, con- sists principally of specific prohibitions. These pro- hibitions again, are extended occasionally to things, which are not in themselves vicious. They are ex- tended, again, to these, because it is possible that they may be made productive, of evil. And they are founded apparently on the principle, that ignorance of such things secures innocence, or that ignorance, in such cases, has the operation of a preventive of vice, or a preservative of virtue. Philosophical moralists on the other hand, are friends to occasional indulgences. They see nothing inherently or necessarily mischievous, either in the theatre or in the concert-room, or in the ball-room, or in the circulating library, or in many other places of resort. If a young female, say they, situated in a provincial town, were to see a play annually, would it not give her animation, and afford a spring to her heart ? or if a youth were to sec a play two or three tknes in the year, might not his parents, if they were to accompany him, make it each time, by their judicious and moral remarks, subservient to the improvement of MORAL EDUCATION. his morals ? neither do these moralists anticipate any danger by looking to distant prospects, where the things are innocent in themselves. And they are of opinion, that all danger may be counteracted effectu- ally, not by prohibitory checks and guards, but by storing the mind with knowledge, and filling it with a love of virtue. The arguments therefore, which these will advance against the system of the moral education of the Quakers, may be seen in the follow- ing words. " All prohibitions, they contend, should be avoid- ed, as much as possible, in moral education ; for prohibitions may often become the cause of greater immorality, than they were intended to prevent. The fable of the hen, whose very prohibition led her chick- ens to the fatal well, has often been realized in life, there is a certain curiosity in human nature to look into things forbidden. If Quaker youth should have the same desires in this respect as others, they can- not gratify them but at the expence of their virtue. If they wish for novels, for example, they must get them clandestinely. If to go to the theatre, they must go in secret. But they must do more than this in the latter case, for as they would be known by their dress, they must change it for that of another persdh. Hence they may be made capable of intrigue, hypo- crisy, and deceit." MORAL EDUCATION. 157 " Prohibitions, again, they believe, except they b& well founded, may confound the notions of children on the subject of morality; for if they are forbidden to do what they see worthy and enlightened persons do, they may never know where to fix the boundaries between vice and virtue " " Prohibitions, again, they consider, if made with- out an allowance of exceptions, as having a tendency to break the spirit of youth. Break a horse in the usual way, a ;d teach him to stop with the check of the reins, and you break him, and preserve his cou- rage. But put him in a mill to break him, and you break his life and animation. Prohibitions therefore may hinder elevated feeling, and may lead to poverty and sordidness of spirit." "Prohibitions, again, they believe, if youth once depart from the right way, render them more vicious characters than common. This arises from the ab- ruptness or suddenness of transition. For having been shut up within narrow boundaries for a part of their lives, they go greater lengths, when once let loose, than others, who have not been equally curbed and confined." But while they are of opinion, that prohibitions arc likely to be thus injurious to Quaker-youth, they are of opinion, " that they are never, to be relied upon as effectual guardians of morality, because they con- sider them as built upon falfe principles." 15S MORAL EDUCATION. " They are founded, they conceive, on the princi- ple, that ignorance is a security for innocence, or that vice is so attractive, that we cannot resist it but by being kept out of the way. In the first case, they contend that the position is false ; for ignorant persons are of all others the most likely, when they fall into temptations, to be seduced, and in the second, they contend that there is a distrust of divine providence in his moral government of the world. " *' They are founded, again, they conceive, on false principles, inasmuch as the Quakers confound causes with sub-causes, or causes with occasions. If a per- son, for example, were to get over a hedge, and re- ceive a thorn in his hand, and die of the wound, this thorn would be only the occasion, and not the cause of his death. The bad state in which his body must have been, to have made this wound fatal, would have been the original cause. In like manner neither the theatre, nor the ball-room are the causes of the bad passions, that are to be found there. All these passions must have existed in persons previously to their entrance into these places. Plays therefore, or novels, or public dances, are only the sub-causes, or the occasions of calling forth the passions in question. The real cause is in the infected state of the mind, or in the want of knowledge, or in the want of a love of MORAL EDUCATION. ys9 " Prohibitions therefore, though they may become, partial checks of vice, can never, they believe, be re- lied upon as effectual guardians of virtue. Bars and bolts seldom prevent thieves from robbing a house. But if armed men should be in it, who would venture to enter in? In the same manner the mind of man should be armed or prepared. It should be so fur- nished, that men should be able to wander through a vicious world,, amidst all its foibles and its follies, and pass uncontaminated by them. It should have that tone given to it, which should hinder all circum- stances from becoming occasions. But this can never be done by locking up the heart to keep vice out of it, but by filling it with knowledge and with a love of virtue. " That this is the only method to be relied upon in moral education, they conceive may be shewn by considering upon whom the pernicious effects of the theatre, or of the ball-room, or of the circulating li- brary, principally fall. Do they not fall principally upon those, who have never had a dignified educa- tion. " Empty noddles, it is said, are fond of play -^ houses," and the converse is true, that persons, ivhose understandings have been enriched, and whose tastes have been corrected, find all such recreations tiresome. At least they find so much to disgust them ? that what they approve does not make them adequate- 160 MORAL EDUCATION. amends. This is the case also with respect to novels These do harm principally to barren minds. They do harm to those who have no proper employment for their time, or to those, who in the manners, conver- sation, and -conduct, of their parents, or others with whom they associate, have no examples of pure thinking, or of pure living, or of a pure taste. Those, on the other hand, who have been taught to love good books, will never run after, or be affected by, bad ones. And the same mode of reasoning, they con- ceive, is applicable to other cases. For if people are taught to love virtue for virtue's sake, and, in like manner, to hate what is unworthy, because they have a genuine and living knowledge of its unworthiness, neither the ball, nor concert-room, nor the theatre, nor the circulating library, nor the diversions of the field, will have charms enough to seduce them, or to injure the morality of their minds." To sum up the whole. The prohibitions of the Quakers, in the first place, may become injurious, in the opinion of these philosophical moralists, by occasioning greater evils, than they were intended to prevent. They can never, in the second place, be relied upon as effectual guardians of virtue, because they consider them to be founded on false principles. And if at any time they can believe them to be effec- tual in the office assigned them, they believe them to to be productive only of a cold or a sluggish virtue. MORAL EDUCATION 161 CHAP. IX SECT. I. Reply of the Quakers to these objections — they say frst, that they are to be guided by revelation in the education of their children — and that the education, which they adopt, is sanctioned by revelation, and by the practice of the early christians — they maintain agam, that the objections are not applicable to them, for they presuppose circumstances concerning them, which are not true — they a 1 low the system of filing the mind with virtue to be the most desirable — but they maintain that it cannot be acted upon abstract- edly — and, that if it could, it would be as danger- ous, as the philosophical moralists make their system of the prohibitions. O these objections the Quakers would make the following reply. They do not look up either to their own imagina- tions, or to the imaginations of others, for any rule in the education of their children. As a christian soci- ety, they conceive themselves bound to be guided by revelation, and by revelation only, while it has any injunctions to offer, which relate to this subject. VOL. i.. x l<& MORAL EDUCATION. In adverting to the Old Testament, they find that no less than nine, out of the ten commandments of Moses, are of a prohibitory nature, and, in adverting to the new, that many of the doctrines of Jesus Christ and the apostles are delivered in the form of prohibi- tions. They believe that revealed religion prohibits them from following all those pursuits, which the objections notice; for though there is no specific prohibition of each, yet there is an implied one in the spirit of Chris- tianity. Violent excitements of the passions on sen- sual subjects must be unfavourable to religious ad- vancement. Worldly pleasures must hinder those, which are spiritual. Impure words and spectacles must affect morals. Not only evil is to be avoided, but even the appearance of evil. While therefore these sentiments are acknowledged by Christianity, it is to be presumed that the customs, which the objec- tions notice, are to be avoided in christian education. And as the Quakers consider these to be forbidden to themselves, they feel themselves obliged to forbid them to others. And, in these pacticular prohibi- tions, they consider themselves as sanctioned both by the writings and the practice of the early christians. In looking at the objections, which have been made with a view of replying to them, they would observe first, that these objections do not seem to apply to .MORAL EDUCATION. 163 • them as a society, because they presuppose circum- stances concerning them, which are not true. They presuppose first, that their moral education is found- ed on prohibitions solely, whereas they endeavour both by the communication of positive precepts, and by their example, to fill the minds of their chil- dren with a love of virtue. They presuppose again, that they are to mix with the world, and to follow the fashions of the world, in which case a moderate know- ledge of the latter, with suitable advice when they are followed, is considered as enabling them to pass through life with less danger than the prohibition of the same, whereas they mix but little with others of other denominations. They abjure the world, that they may not imbibe its spirit. And here they would observe, that the knowledge, which is recommended to be obtained, by going through perilous customs is not necessary for them as a society. For living much at home, and mixing almost solely with one another, they consider their education as sufficient for their wants. If the Quakers could view the two different systems abstractedly, that of filling the heart with virtue, imd that of shutting it out from a knowledge of vice, so that they could be acted upon separately, and so thai the first of the two were practicable, and practicable without having to go through scenes that were danger 164 MORAL EDUCATION. • ous to virtue, they would have no hesitation in giving the preference to the former ; because if men could be taught to love virtue for virtue's sake, all the trouble of prohibi ions would be unnecessary. But the Quakers would conceive that the system of filling the mind with virtue, if acted upon abstractedly, or by itself, would be impracticable with respect to youth. To make it practicable children must be born with the full grown intellect and experience of men. They must have an innate knowledge of all the tendencies, the bearings, the relations, and the effects of virtue and vice. They must be also strong enough to look temptation in the face; whereas youth have no such knowledge, or experience, or strength, or power. They would consider also the system of filling the mind with virtue, as impossible, if attempted ab- stractedly or alone, because it is not in human wis- dom to devise a method of inspiring it with this es- sence, without first teaching it to abstain from vice. It is impossible, they would say, for a man to be vir- tuous, or to be in love with virtue, except he were to lay aside his vicious practices. The first step to vir- tue, according both to the Heathen and the Christian philosophy, is to abstain from vice. We are to cease to do evil, and to learn to do well. This is the process recommended. Hence prohibitions are neces- MORAL EDUCATION. 165 sary. Hence sub-causes as well as causes are to be attacked. Hence abstinence from vice is a Christian, though it may be a sluggish, virtue. Hence inno- cenc is to be aimed at by an ignorance of vice. And hence we must prohibit all evil, if we wish for the as sistance of the moral governor of the world. But if the system of filling the heart with virtue were ever practicable of itself, that is, without the aid of prohibitions, yet if it be to be followed by allowing young persons to pass through the various amuse- ments of the world which the Quakers prohibit, and by giving them moral advice at the same time, they would be of opinion, that more danger would accrue to their morality, than any, which the prohibitions could produce. The prohibitions, as far as diey have a tendency to curb the spirit, would not be injurious, in the opinion of the Quakers, because it is their plan in education to produce humble, and passive, and obedient characters ; and because spirit, or highmincl- edness, or high feeling, is no trait in the Christian character. As far as the curiosity, which is natural to man, would instigate him to look into things for- bidden, which he could not always do in the particu- lar situation of the Quakers, without the admission of intrigue, or hypocrisy, or deceit, prohibitions would be to be considered as evils, though they would always be necessary evils. But the Quakers m MORAL EDUCATION. would apprehend that the same number of youth would not be lost by passing through the ordeal of prohibitory education, as through tiie ordeal of the system, which attempts to fill the mind with virtue, by inuring it to scenes, which may be dangerous to its morality; for if tastes are to be cultivated, and knowledge to be had, by adopting the amusements prohibited by the Quakers, many would be lost, though some might be advanced to virtue. For parents cannot always accompany their childreir to such places, nor, if they could, can they prevent these from fascinating. If these should fascinate, thsy will suggest repetitions. But frequent repetiti- ons, where you accustom youth to see, to hear, and to think, what ought never to be heard, seen, or thought of by Christians, cannot but have the effect of tinging the character in time. This mode of edu- cation would be considered by the Quakers as an- swering to that of " dear bought experience." A person may come to see the beauty of virtue, w lien his constitution has been shattered by vice. But many will perish in the midst of so hazardous a trial. (») (r) Though no attempt is to be made to obtain knowledge, accord- ing to the Christian system, through the . medium of customs whicU piay be of immoral tendency, yet it does not follow that knowledge, properly obtained, is not a powerful guardian of virtue. This, import- ant subject may probably be resumed in a future volume. MORAL EDUCATION. l$J SECT, n. Quakers contend, by way of farther reply to the objec* tions, that their education has Seen practically or ex- perimentally beneficial — two facts in behalf of this assertion — the first is that young Quakers get earlier into the wisdom of life than many others — the se- cond, that there arefeiv disorderly persons in the so- ciety — error corrected, that the Quakers turn per- sons out of the society, as soon as they begin to be vicious, that it may be rescued from the disgrace of a bad character X. HE answers, which have hitherto been given to the rea ; er, may be considered as the statement of theory against theory. But the Quakers would say farther upon this subject, that they have educated upon these principles for a hundred and fifty years, and that, where they have been attended to, their effects have been uniformly beneficial. They would be fearful therefore of departing from a path, which they conceive their own experience and that of their ancestors has shewn them to be safe, and which, after all their inquiries, they believe to be that which is pointed out to them by the christian religion- ibS MORAL EDUCATION. I shall not attempt to follow up this practical argu- ment by any history of the lives of the Quakers, but shall content myself with one or two simple facts, which appear to me to be materially to the point. In the first place I may observe that it is an old saying, that it is difficult to put old heads on young shoulders. The Quakers, however, do this more effectually than any other people. It has often been observed that a Quaker boy has an unnatural ap- pearance. This idea has arisen from his dress and his sedateness, which together have produced an appear- ance of age above the youth in his countenance, or the stature of his person. This, however, is con- fessing, in some degree, in the case before us, that the discretion of age has appeared upon youthful shoulders. It is certainly an undeniable fact, that the' youth of this society, generally speaking, get earlier into a knowledge of just sentiments, or into a knowledge of human nature, or into a knowledge of the true wisdom of life, than those of the world at large. I have often been surprised to hear young- Quakers talk of the folly and vanity of pursuits, in which persons older than themselves were then em- barking for the purposes of pleasure, and which the same persons have afterwards found to have been the pursuits only of uneasiness and pain. MORAL EDUCATION. 16* Let us stop for a while, just to look at the situation of some of those young persons, who, in consequence of a different education, are introduced to the pi a- sures of the world, as to those, which are to constitute their happiness. We see them running eagerly first after this object, then afte; that. One man says to himself " this will constitute my pleasure.*' He icl- lows it. He finds it vanity and vexation of spirit, He says again " I have found myself deceived. I now see my happiness in other pleasures, and not in those where I fancied it." He follows these. He becomes sickened. He finds the result different fronvjus ex- pectations. He pursues pleasure, but pleasure is not there. (o) " They are lost In chase of fancied happiness, stiii woo'd, And never won. Dream after dream ensues, And still they dream, that they 9hall still succeed And still are disappointed." Thus after having wasted a considerable portion of his time, he is driven at last by positive experience into the truth of those maxims, which philosophy and religion have established, and in the pursuit of which alone he now sees that true happiness is to be found. Thus, in consequence of his education, he («) Cowpey.- Vol. t. Y i?o moral Education. looses two thirds of his time in tedious and unprofit- able, if not in baneful pursuits. The young Quaker, on the other hand, comes, by means of his education, to the same maxims of philosophy and religion, as the foundation of his happiness, at a very early period of life, and therefore saves the time, and preserves the constitution which the other has been wasting, for want of this early knowledge. I know of no fact more striking, or more true in the Quaker- history, than this, namely, that the young Quaker, who is educated as a Quaker, gets such a knowledge of hu- man nature, and of the paths to wisdom and happi- ness, at an early age, that, though he is known to be a young mariner by the youth displayed in his counr- tenance, he is enabled to conduct his bark through the dangerous rocks and shoals of life, with greater safety than many others, who have been longer on the ocean of this probationary world. I may observe again, as the second fact, that it & not unusual to hear persons say, that you seldom see a disorderly Quaker, or, that a Quaker-prostitute or a Quaker criminal is unknown.. These declarations, frequently and openly made, shew at least that there is an opinion among the world at large, that the Qua- kers are a moral people. The mention of this last fact leads me to the notice, and the correction, of an error, which I have found te- MORAL EDUCATION. 171 liave been taken up by individuals. It is said by these that the Quakers are very wary with respect to their disorderly members, for that when any of them behave ill, they are expelled the society in order to rescue it from the disgrace of a bad character. Thus if a Qua- ker woman were discovered to be a prostitute, or a Quaker man to be taken up for a criminal offence, no disgrace could attach to this society as it would to others ; for if, in the course of a week, after a discovery had been made of their several offences, any person were to state that two Quaker members had become infamous, it would be retorted upon him, that they were not members of the society. It will be proper to observe upon the subject of this error, that it is not so probable that the Quakers would disown these, after the discovery of their infamy, to get rid of any stain upon the character of the society, as it is that these persons, long before the facts could be known, had been both admonished and disowned. For there is great truth in the old maxim " Nemo fecit repente 'turpissimus ;" or no man was ever all at once a rogue." So in the case of these persons, as of all others, they must have been vicious by degrees : they must have shewn symptoms of some deviations from rectitude, before the measure of their iniquity could have been completed. But by the constitution of Quakerism, J 7* MORAL EDUCATION. as will appear soon, no person of the society can be found erring even for the first time, without being liable to be privately admonished. These admoni- tions may be repeated for weeks, or for months, or even for years, before the subjects of them are pro- nounced so incorrigible as to be disowned. There is great reaso i therefore to presume, in the case before us, though the offenders in question woulij $feve undoubtedly been disowned by the Quakers, after they were known to be such, yet that they had been disowned long before their offences had been made public. Upon the whole it may be allowed, that young Quakers ar ive at the knowledge of just sentiments, or at the true wisdom of life earlier than those, who are inured to the fashions of the wot Id ; and it may be allowed also that the Quakers, as a body, are a moral people. Now these effects will generally be considered as the result of education ; and though the prohibitions of the Quakers may not be considered as the only instruments of producing these effects, yet they must be allowed to be component parts of the system, which produces them. Discipline OF THE QUAKERS. DISCIPLINE OF THE QUAKERS. CHAP. I SECT. I. Discipline of two kinds — as it relates to the regulation of the internal affairs of the society — or to the cogni- zance of immoral conduct — difficulty of procuring obedience to moral precepts — this attempted to be obviated by George Fox — outlines of his system for this purpose —additions made to his system since his time — objections to the system considered — this sy stein , or the discipline of the Quakers, as far as this branch of it is concerned, the great foundaticn? stone an which their moral education is supported. X HE discipline of the Quakers is divisible into two parts. The first may comprehend the regulation of the internal affairs of the society, such as the man- agement of the poor belonging to it, the granting of, certificates of removal to its members, the hearing of their appeals upon various occasions, the taking cog- 1?6 DISCIPLINE. nizance of their proposals of marriage, and the like* The second may comprehend the notice or obser- vance of the moral conduct of individuals, with a view of preserving the rules, which the Quakers have thought it their duty to make, and the testimo- nies which they have thought it their duty to bear, as a christian people. It is to the latter part of the discipline that I shall principally confine myself in the ensuing part of my work. Nothing is more true than that, when men err in their moral practice, it is not for want of good pre- cepts or of wholesome advice. There are few books from which we cannot collect some moral truths ; and few men so blind, as not to be able to point out to us the boundaries of moral good. The pages of revelation have been long unfolded to our view, and diffusively spread among us. We have had the advantage too of having their contents frequently and publicly repeated into our ears. And yet, know- ing what is right, we cannot pursue it. We go off, on the other hand, against our better knowledge, into the road to evil. Now, it was the opinion of George Fox, that something might be done to counteract this infirmity of human nature, or to make a man keep up to the precepts which he believed to have been divinely inspired, or, in other words, that a system DISCIPLINE. i?7 of Discipline might be devised, for regulating, excit- ing, and preserving the conduct of a Christian. This system he at length completed, and, as he believed, with the divine aid, and introduced it into the society with the approbation of those who belonged to it. The great principle, upon which he founded it, was, that every christian was bound to watch over another for his good. This principle included two ideas. First, that vigilance ever the moral conduct of individuals was a christian duty. Secondly, that any interfere noe with persons, who might err, was solely for their good. Their reformation was to be die only object in view. Hence religious advice was necessary. Hence it was to be administered with tenderness and patience. Hence nothing was to be left undone, while there was a hope that any thing could be done, for their spiritual welfare. From this view of the subject he enjoined it to all the members of his newly formed society, to be watchful over the conduct of one another, and not to hesitate to step in for the recovery of those, whom they might discover to be overtaken with a fault. He enjoined it to them again, that they should follow the order recommended by Jesus Christ upon such occasions, (p) " If thy brother shall trespass (p) Matt. 18. 15, 16, 17. VOL. 1*. 7. 178 DISCIPLINE. against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, thou hast gain- ed thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be estab- lished. And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church; but, if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as a Heathen- man or a Publican." For the carrying of this system into execution in the order thus recommended, he appointed Courts, or meetings for dicipline, as the Quakers call them, with the approbation of the society, where the case of the disorderly should be considered, if it should be brought to the cognizance of the church ; and where a record should be kept of the proceedings of the so- ciety respecting it. In these courts or meetings the poor were to have an equal voice with the rich. — There was to be no distinction but in favour of reli- gious worth. And here it is to be remarked, that he was so desirous, that the most righteous judgment should be pronounced upon any offender, that he abandoned the usual mode of decision, in general so highly valued, by a majority of voices, and recom- mended the decision to be made according to the ap- parent will of the virtuous, who might be present. — And as expulsion from membership with the church DISCIPLINE. 179 was to be considered as die heaviest punishment, which the Quakers, as a religious body, could inflict, he gave the offender an opportunity of appealing to meetings, different from those in which the sentence had been pronounced against him, and where the de- cisive voices were again to be collected from the pre- ponderant weight of religious character. He introduced also into his system of dicipline privileges in favour of women, which marked his sense of justice, and the strength and liberality of his mind. The men he considered undoubtedly as the heads of the church, and from whom all laws concerning it ought to issue. But he did not deny women on that account any power, which he thought it would be proper for them to hold. He believed them to be capable of great usefulness, and therefore admitted them to the honour of being, in his own society, of nearly equal importance with the men.— In the general duty, imposed upon members, of watching over one another, he laid it upon the wo- men, to be particularly careful in observing the mor- als of those of their own sex. He gave them also meetings for dicipline of their own, with the power, of recording their own transactions, so that women were to act among courts or meetings of women, as men among those of men. There was also to be no office in the society belonging to the men, but he 180 DISCIPLINE. advised there should be a corresponding one belong- ing to the women. By this new and impartial step he raised the women of his own community beyond the level of women in others, and laid the foundation of that improved strength of intellect, dignity of mind, capability of business, and habit of humane offices, which are so conspicuous among Female- Quakers at the present day. With respect to the numerous offices, belonging to the discipline, he laid it down as a principle, that the persons, who were to fill them, were to have no other emolument or reward, than that, which a faith- ful discharge of them would bring to their own con- sciences. These are the general outlines of the system of dis- cipline, as introduced by George Fox. This system was carried into execution, as he himself had formed it, in his own time. Additions, however, have been made to it since, as it seemed proper, by the society at large. In the time of George Fox, it was laid upon every member, as we have seen, to watch over his neighbour for his spiritual welfare. But in 1698, the society conceiving, that what was the bu- siness of every one might eventually become the bu- siness of no one, appointed officers, whose particular duty it should be to be overseers of the morals of individuals; thus hoping, that by the general vigil- DISCIPLINE. 181 ance enjoined by George Fox, which was still to continue, and by the particular vigilance then ap- pointed, sufficient care would be taken of the morals of the whole, body. In the time, again, of George Fox, women had only their monthly and quarterly meetings for discipline, but it has since been deter- mined, that they should have their yearly meetings equally with the men. In the time, again, of George Fox, none but the grave members were admitted into the meetings for discipline, but it has been since agreed, that young persons should have the privi- lege of attending them, and this, I believe, upon, the notion, that, while these meetings would qualify them for transacting the business of the society, they might operate as schools for virtue. This system of discipline, as thus introduced by George Fox, and as thus enlarged by the society af- terwards, has not escaped, notwithstanding the loveli- ness of its theory, the censure of the world. It has been considered in the first place, as a system of espionage, by which one member is made a spjr upon, or becomes an informer against another. But against this charge it would be observed by the Qua- kers, that vigilance over morals is unquestionably a christian duty. It would be observed again that the vigilance which is exercised in this case, is not with the intention of mischief, as in the case of spies and 182 DISCIPLINE. informers, but with the intention of good. It is not to obtain money, but to preserve reputation and vir. tue. It is not to persecute but to reclaim. It is not to make a man odious, but to make him more re- spectable. It is never an interference with innocence. The watchfulness begins to be offensive only, where delinquency is begun. The discipline, again, has been considered as too great an infringement of the liberty of those, who are brought under it. Against this the Quakers would contend, that all persons who live in civil society, must give up a portion of their freedom, that more happiness and security may be enjoyed. So, when men enter into christian societies, they must part with a little of their liberty for their moral good. But whatever may be the light in which persons, not of the society, may view this institution* the Quakers submit to, and respect it. It is possible there may be some, who may feel it a restraint upon their con- duct, And there is no doubt, that it is a restraint upon those, who have irregular desires to gratify, or destructive pleasures to pursue. But generally speak- ing, the youth of the society, who receive a consistent education, approve of it. Genuine Quaker parents, as I have had occasion to observe, insist upon the subjugation of the will. It is their object to make their children lowly, patient and submissive. Thosr DISCIPLINE, 183 therefore, who are born in the society, are born under the system, and are in general educated for it. Those who become converted to the religion of the society, know beforehand the terms of their admission. And it wi.l appear to all to be at least an equitable institu- tion, because in the administration of it, there is no exception of persons. The officers themselves, who aje appointed to watch over, fall under the inspection of the discipline. The poor may admonish the rich, and the rich the poor. There is no exception, in short, either for age, or sex, or station. It is not necessary, at least in the present place, that I should go farther, and rake up all the objections, that may be urged upon this subject. I shall there- fore only observe here, that the discipline of the Qua- kers, notwithstanding all its supposed imperfections^ whatever they may be, is the grand foundation-stone, upon which their moral education is supported. It is the grand partition wall between them and vice. If this part of the fabric were ever allowed to be un- dermined, the building would fall to pieces; and though the Quakers might still be known by their apparel and their language, they would no longer be so remarkable as they are now generally confessed to. be, for their moral character. 134 DISCIPLINE, SECT. II. Manner of the administration of the discipline of jjic Quakers — Overseers appointed to every particular meeting — Manner of reclaiming an individual— first by admonition — this sometimes successful — secondly by dealing — this sometimes successful — but ifunsuc- cessful, the offender is disowned — but he may ap- peal afterwards to two different courts or meetings for redress. — JtxAVING now given the general outlines of the discipline of the Quakers, I shall proceed to explain the particular manner of the administration of it. To administer it effectually all individuals of the society, as I have just stated, whether men or wo- men, are allowed the power of watching over the conduct of one another for their good, and of inter, fering, if they should see occasion. But besides this general care two or more persons of age and experience, and of moral lives and charac* ter, and two or more women of a similar description, are directed to be appointed, to have the oversight of every congregation or particular meeting in the king- DISCIPLINE, 18-5 dom. These persons are called overseers, because it is their duty to oversee their respective flocks. If any of the members should violate the prohibi- tions mentioned in the former part Of the work, or should become chargeable with injustice, drunken- ness, or profane swearing, or neglect of their public worship, or should act in any way inconsistently with his character as a christian, it becomes the particular duty of these overseers, though it is also the duty of the members at large, to visit him in private, to set be= fore him the error and consequences of his conduct, and to endeavour by all the means in their power to re- claim him. This act on the part of the overseer is termed by the society admonishing. The circum- stances of admonishing and of being admonished are known only to the parties, except the case should have become of itself notorious ; for secrecy is held sacred on the part of the persons who admonish* Hence it may happen, that several of the society may admonish the same person, though no one of them knows that any other has been visiting him at all. The offender may be thus admonished by overseers and other individuals for weeks and months together, for no time is fixed by the society, and no pains are supposed to be spared for his reformation. It is expected, however, in all such admonitions, that no austerity of language or Vol. i. A a IU DISCIPLINE. manner should be used, but that he should be ad- monished in tenderness and love. If an overseer, or any other individual, after having thus laboured to reclaim another for a considerable length of time, finds that he has not succeeded in his work, and feels also that he despairs of succeeding by his own efforts, he opens the matter to some other overseer, or to one or more serious members, and requests their aid. These persons now wait upon the offender together, and unite their efforts in endea- vouring to persuade him to amend his life. This act, which now becomes more public by the junction of two or three in the work of his reformation, is still kept a secret from other individuals of the society, and still retains the name of admonishing. It frequently happens that, during these different admonitions, the offender sees his error, and corrects his conduct. The visitations of course cease, and he goes on in the estimation of the society as a regu- lar or unoffending member, no one knowing but the admonishing persons, that he has been under the dis- cipline of the society. I may observe here, that what is done by men to men is done by women to women, the women admonishing and trying to reclaim those of their own sex, in the same manner. Should, however, the overseers, and other persons before mentioned, find after a proper length of time discipline, w that all their united efforts have been ineffectual, and that they have no hope of success with respect to his amendment, they lay the case, if it should be of a serious nature, before a (g) court, which has the name of the monthly meeting. This court, or meeting, make a minute of the case, and appoint a committee to visit him. The committee in consequence, of their appointment wait upon him. This act is now consi- dered as a public act, or as an act of the church. It is not now termed admonishing, but changes its name to (r) dealing. The offender too, while the com- mittee are dealing with him, though he may attend the meetings of the society for worship, does not attend those of their discipline. If the committee, after having dealt with the offen- der according to their appointment, should be satisfied that he is sensible of his error, they make a report to the monthly court or meeting concerning him. A minute is then drawn up, in which it is stated, that he has made satisfaction for the offence. It sometimes (q) Certain acts of delinquency are reported to the monthly meet- ing, as soon as the truth of the facts can be ascertained, such as a violation of the rides of the society, with respect to marriage, payment of tythes, &c (/-) Women, though they may admonish, cannot deal with, women, this being an act of the church, till the}' have consulted the meetings •f the men. Men are generally joined with wnmen in the commission for tills purpose. V85 DISCIPLINE. happens, that he himself sends to the same meeting a written acknowledgement of his error. From this time he attends the meetings for discipline again, and is continued in the society, as if nothing improper had taken place. Nor is any one allowed to reproach him for his former faults. Should, however, all endeavours prove ineffectual, and should the committee, after having duly laboured with the offender, consider him at last as incorrigible, they report their proceedings to the monthly meeting. He is then publicly excluded from membership, or, as it is called, (s) disowned. This is done by a dis- tinct document, called a testimony of disownment, in which the nature of the offence, and the means that Jjave been used to reclaim him, are described. A wish is also generally expressed in this document, that he may repent, and be taken into membership again. A copy of this minute is always required to be given to him. If the offender should consider this act of disown-* ing him as an unjust proceeding, he may appeal to a higher tribunal, or to the quarterly court, or meet- ing. This quarterly court or meeting, then appoint a committee, of which no one of the monthly meeting that condemned him can be a member, to reconsider (*) Women cannot disown, the power of disowning, as an act of the •hurch, being vested in the meetings of the men. DISCIPLINE. !89 his case. Should this committee report, and the quarterly meeting in consequence decide against him, he may appeal to the yearly. This latter meeting is held in London, and consists of deputies and others from all parts of the kingdom. The yearly meeting then appoint a committee of twelve deputies, taken from twelve quarterly meetings, none of whom can be from the quarterly meeting that passed sentence against him, to examine his case again. If this com- mittee should confirm the former decisions, he may appeal to the yearly meeting at large ; but beyond this there is no appeal. But if he should even be disowned by the voice of the yearly meeting at large, he may, if he lives to give satisfactory proof of his amendment, and sues for readmission into the soci- etv, be received into membership again ; but he can only be received through the medium of the monthly meeting, by which he was first disowned,, 190 DISCIPLINE. SECT. III. Txvo charges usually brought against this administra- tion of the discipline — that it is managed -with an authoritative spirit — and that it is managed par- tially — these charges considered. JLjLS two charges are usually brought against the administration of that part of the discipline, which . lias been just explained, I shall consider them in this place. The first usually is, that, though the Quakers ab- hor what they call the authority of priest craft, yet some overseers possess a portion of the spirit of ec- clesiastical dominion ; that they are austere, authori- tative, and over bearing in the course of the exercise of their office, and that, though the institution may be of christian origin, it is not always conducted by these with a christian spirit. To this first charge I shall make the following reply. That there may be individual instances, where this charge may be founded, I am neither disposed, nor qualified, to deny. Overseers have their differ- ent tempers, like other people ; and the exercise of DISCIPLINE. 191 dominion has unquestionably a tendency to spoil the heart. So far there is an opening for the admission of this charge. But it must be observed, on the other hand, that the persons, to be chosen overseers, are to be by the laws of the society (t) " as upright and unblameable in their conversation, as they can be found, in order that the advice, which they shall occasionally administer to other friends, may be the better received, and carry with it the greater weight and force on the minds of those, whom they shall be concerned to admonish." It must be observed again that it is expressly enjoined them, that " they are to exercise their functions in a meek, calm, and peace- able spirit, in order that the admonished may see that their interference with their conduct proceeds from a principle of love and a regard for their good; and preservation in the truth." And it must be observed again, that any violation of this injunction would render them liable to be ad- monished by others, and to come under the discipline themselves. The second charge is, that the discipline is admin- istered, partially; or that more favour is shewn to the rich than to the poor, and that the latter are sooner disowned than the former for the same faults. • 4 N Book of extracts-. 192 DISCIPLINE. This latter charge has probably arisen from a vul. gar notion, that, as the poor are supported by the society, there is a general wish to get rid of them.— But this notion is not true. There is more than or- dinary caution in disowning those who are objects of support, add to which, that, as some of the most orderly members of the body are to be found among the poor, an expulsion of these, in a hasty manner, would be a diminution of the quantum of respecta- bility, or of the quantum of moral character, of the society at large. In examining this charge, it must certainly be al= lowed, that though the principle " of no respect of persons" is no where carried to a greater length than in the Quaker Society, yet we may reasonably expect to find a drawback frcm the full operation of it in a variety of causes. We are all of us too apt, in the first place, to look up to the rich, but to look down upon the poor. We are apt to court the good will of the former, when we seem to care very little even whether we offend the latter. The rich themselves and the middle classes of men respect the rich more than the poor ; r„nd the poor shew more respect to the rich than to one another. Hence it is possible, that a poor man may find more reluctance in entering the doors of a rich man to admonish him, than one who is rich to enter the doors of the poor for the DISCIPLINE. 19$ same purpose, men, again, though they may be equally good, may not have all the same strength of character. Some overseers may be more timid than others, and this timidity may operate upon them more in the execution of their duty upon one class of individuals, than upon another. Hence a rich man may escape for a longer time without admonition, than a poorer member. But when the ice is once broken ; when admonition is once begun ; when re- spectable persons have been called in by overseers or others, those causes, which might be preventive of justice, will decrease ; and, if the matter should be carried to a monthly or a quarterly meeting, they will wholly vanish. For in these courts it is a truth, that those, who are the most irreproachable for their lives, and the most likely of course to decide justly on any occasion, are the most attended to, or carry the most weight, when they speak publicly. Now these are to be found principally in the low and mid- dle classes, and these, in all societies, contain the greatest number of individuals. As to the very rich, these are few indeed compared with the rest, and these may be subdivided into two classes forthe farther elucidation of the point. The first will con- sist of men, who rigidly follow the rules of the soci- ety, and are as exemplary as the very best of the members. The second will consist of those, who VOL. i, b fe 194 DISCIPLINE. are members according to the letter, but not accord- ing to the spirit, and who are content with walking in the shadow, that follows the substance of the body. Those of the first class will do justice, and they will have an equal influence with any. Those of the se- cond, whatever may be their riches, or whatever they may say, are seldom if ever attended to in the admin- istration of the discipline. From hence it will appear, that if there be any par- tiality in the administration of this institution, it will consist principally in this, that a rich man may be suffered in particular cases, to go longer without ad- monition than a poorer member ; but that after admo- nition has been begun, justice will be impartially administered ; and that the charges of a preference, where disowning is concerned, has no solid foundation for its support. DISCIPLINE. I9i SECT. IV. Three great principles discoverable in the discipline, as hitherto explained — these applicable to the discipline of larger societies, or to the criminal codes of states — lamentable, that as Christian principles, they have not been admitted into oar own — Quakers, as far as they have had influence in legislation, have adopted them — exertions of William Penn — Legislature of Pennsylvania an example to other countries in this particular. JL FIND it almost impossible to proceed to the great courts or meetings of the Quakers, which I had allot- ted for my next subject, without stopping a while to make a few observations on the principles of that part of the discipline, which I have now explained. It may be observed, first, that the great object of this part of the discipline is the reformation of the offending person : secondly, that the means of effect- ing this object consists of religious instruction or advice : and thirdly, that no pains are to be spared, and no time to be limited, for the trial of these means, or, in other words, that nothing is to be left undone, 296 DISCIPLINE. while there is a hope that the offender may be reclaim- ed. Now these principles the Quakers adopt in the exercise of their discipline, because, as a Christian community, they believe they ought to be guided only by Christian principles, and they know of no other, which the letter, or the spirit of Christianity, can war- rant. I shall trespass upon the patience of the reader in this place, only till I have made an application of these principles, or till I have shewn him how far these might be extended, and extended with advantage to morals, beyond the limits of the Quaker-society, by being received as the basis, upon which a system of penal laws might be founded, among larger societies, or states. It is much to be lamented, that nations, professing Christianity, should have lost sight, in their various acts of legislation, of Christian principles : or that they should not have interwoven some such beautiful principles as those, which we have seen adopted by the Quakers, into the system of their penal laws. But if this negligence or omission would appear worthy of regret, if reported of any Christian nation, it would appear most so, if reported of our own, where one would have supposed, that the advantages of civil and religious liberty, and those of a reformed religion, would have had their influence in the correction of our DISCIPLINE. 197 judgments, and in the benevolent dispositions of our will. And yet nothing is more true, than that these good influences have either never been produced, or, if produced, that they have never been attended to, upon this subject. There seems to be no provision for religious instruction in our numerous prisons. We seem to make no patient trials of those, who are confined in them, for their reformation. But, on the other hand, we seem to hurry them off the stage of life, by means of a code, which annexes death to two hundred different offences, as if we had allowed our laws to be written by the bloody pen of the pagan Draco. And it seems remarkable, that this system should be persevered in, when we consider that death, as far as the experiment has been made in our own country, has little or no effect as a punishment for crimes. Forgery, and the circulation of forged pa- per, and the counterfeiting of the money of the realm, are capital offences, and are never pardoned. And yet no offences are more frequently committed than these. And it seems still more remarkable, when we consider, in addition to this, that in consequence of the experiments, made In other countries, it seems to be approaching fast to an axiom, that crimes are less frequent, in proportion as mercy takes place of severi- ty, or as there are judicious substitutes for the pun- ishment of death, iss DISCIPLINE. I shall not inquire, in this place, how far the right of taking away life on many occasions, which is sanc- tioned by the law of the land, can be supported on the ground of justice, or how far a greater injury is done bv it, than the injury the criminal has himself done. As Christians, it seems that we should be influenced by Christian principles. Now nothing can be more true, than that Christianity commands us to be tender hearted one to another, to have a tender forbearance one with another, and to regard one another as breth- ren. We are taught also that men, independently of their accountableness to their omit governments, are accountable for their actions in a future state, and that punishments are unquestionably to follow. But where are our forbeara. ce and our love, where is our regard for the temporal and eternal interests of man, where is our respect for the principles of the gospel, if we make the reformation of a criminal a less object than his punishment, or if we consign him to death, in the midst of his sins, without having tried all the means in our power for his recovery ? Had the Quakers been the legislators of the world, they had long ago interwoven the principles of their discipline into their penal codes, and death had been long ago abolished as a punishment for crimes. As far as they have had any power with legislatures, they have procured an attention to these principles. George DISCIPLINE. 199 Fox remonstrated with the judges in his time on the subject of capital punishments. But the Quakers having been few in number, compared with the rest of their countrymen, and having had no seats in the legislature, and no predominant interest with the mem- bers of it, they have been unable to effect any change in England on this subject. In Pennsylvania, how- ever, where they were the original colonists, they have had influence with their own government, and they have contributed to set up a model of jurisprudence, worthy of the imitation of the world. William Penn, on his arrival in America, formed a code of laws chiefly on Quaker principles, in which, however, death was inscribed as a punishment, but it was confined to murder. Queen Anne set this code aside, and substituted the statute and common law of the mother country. It was, however, resumed in time, and acted upon for some years, when it was set aside by the mother country again. From this time it continued dormant till the separation of America irom England. But no sooner had this event taken place, which rendered the American states their own legislators, than the Pennsylvanian Quakers began to aim at obtaining an alteration of the penal laws. In this they were joined by worthy individuals of other denominations ; and these, acting in union, procured from the legislature of Pennsylvania, in the year 1786, 200 DISCIPLINE. a reform of the criminal code. This reform, how- ever, was not carried, in the opinion of the Q akers, to a sufficient length. Accordingly, they took the lead again, and exerted themselves afresh upon this subject. Many of them formed themselves into a society " for alleviating the miseries of public pri- sons." Other persons co-operated with them in this undertaking also. At length, after great perseverance, they prevailed upon the same legislature, in the year 1790, to try an ameliorated system. This trial an- swered so well, that the same legislature again, in the year 1794, established an act, in which several Quaker principles were incorporated, and in which only the crime of premeditated murder was punishable with death. As there is now but one capital offence in Pennsylva- nia, punishments for other offences are made up of fine, imprisonment, and labour ; and these are award- ed separately or conjointly, according to the magni- tude of the crime. When criminals have been convicted, and sent to f he great gaol of Philadelphia to undergo their pun- ishment, it is expected of them that they should main- tain themselves out of their daily labour ; that they should pay for their board and washing, and also for the use of their different implements of labour ; and that they should defray the expences of their com- DISCIPLINE. 201 mitment, and of their prosecutions and their trials* An account therefore is regularly kept against them, and if at the expiration of the term of their punish- ment, there should be a surplus of money in their favour, arising out of the produce of their work, it is given to them on their discharge. An agreement is usually made about the price of prison- labour between the inspector of the gaol and the employers of the criminals. As reformation is now the great object in Pensyl- Vania, where offences have been committed, it is of the first importance that the gaoler and the different inspectors should be persons of moral character* Good example, religious advice, and humane treat- ment on the part of these, will have a tendency to produce attention, respect, and love on the part of the prisoners, and to influence their moral conduct. Hence it is a rule never to be departed from, that none are to be chosen as successors to these different offi- cers, but such, as shall be found on inquiry to have been exemplary in their lives. As reformation, again, is now the great object, no corporal punishment is allowed in the prison. No keeper can strike a criminal. Nor can any crimi- nal be put into irons. All such punishments are considered as doing harm. They tend to extirpate a sense of shame. They tend to degrade a man, and Vol. i. r, r 202 * DISCIPLINE, to make him consider himself as degraded in his own eyes ; whereas it is the design of this change in the penal system, that he should be constantly looking up to the restoration of his dignity as a man, and to the recovery of his moral character. As reformation, again, is now the great object, the following (u) system is adopted. No intercourse is allowed between the males and the females, nor any between the untried and the convicted prisoners. While they are engaged in their labour, they are allowed to talk only upon the subject, which immedi- ately relates to their work. All unnecessary conver sation is forbidden. Profane swearing is never over- looked. A strict watch is kept, that no spirituous liquors may be introduced. Care is taken that all the prisoners have the benefit of religious instruction. The prison is accordingly open, at stated times, to the pastors of the different religious denominations of the place. And as the mind of man may be worked upon by rewards as well as by punishments, a hope is held out to the prisoners, that the time of their confinement may be shortened by their good behaviour. For the (a) As cleanliness is connected with health, and health with morals, the prisoners are obliged to wash and clean themselves every morning before their work, and to bathe in the summer-season, in a large reser- voir of water, which is provided in the court yard of the prison for this purpose. DISCIPLINE. 203 inspectors, if they have reason to believe that a solid reformation has taken place in any individual, have a power of interceding for his enlargement, and the executive government of granting it, if they think it proper. In the case, where the prisoners are refrac- tory, they are usually put into solitary confinement, and deprived of the opportunity of working. During this time the expences of their board and washing are going on, so that they are glad to get into employment again, that they may liquidate the debt, which, since the suspension of their labour, has been accruing to the gaol. In consequence of these regulations, those who visit the criminals in Philadelphia in the hours of their labour, have more the idea of a large manufactory, than of a prison. They see nail-makers, sawyers, carpen- ters, joiners, weavers, and others, all busily employed. They see regularity and order among these. And as no chains are to be seen in the prison, they seem to forget their situation as criminals, and to look upon them as the free and honest labourers of a commu- nity following their respective trades. In consequence of these regulations, great advanta- ges have arisen both to the criminals, and to the state. The state has experienced a diminution of crimes to the amount of one half since the change of the penal system, and the criminals have been restored, in a 204 DISCIPLINE. great proportion, from the gaol to the community, as reformed persons. For few have been known to stay the whole term of their confinement. But no person could have had any of his time remitted him, except he had been considered both by the inspectors and the executive government as deserving it. This circumstance of permission to leave the prison before the time expressed in the sentence, is of great impor- tance to the prisoners. For it operates as a certify cate for them of their amendment to the world at large* Hence no stigma is attached to them for having been the inhabitants of a prison. It may be observed also, that some of the most orderly and in- dustrious, and such as have worked at the most profitable trades, have had sums of money to take on their discharge, by which they have been able to maintain themselves honestly, till they could get into employ. Such is the state, and such the manner of the exe^ cution of the penal laws of Pensylvania, as founded upon Quaker-principles, so happy have the effects of this new system already been, that it is supposed it will be adopted by the other American States. May the example be universally followed ! May it be universally received as a truth, that true policy is inseparable from virtue ; that in proportion as princi- ples become lovely on account of their morality, they DISCIPLINE. 205 will become beneficial, when acted upon, both to in. dividuals and to States ; or that legislators cannot raise a constitution upon so fair and firm a founda- tion, as upon the gospel of Jesus Christ ! CHAP. II. Monthly court or meeting — constitution of this meet- ing — each county is usually divided into parts — in each of these parts or divisions are several meeting' houses ', which have their several congregations at- tached to them — one meeting-house in each division is fixed upon for transacting the business of all the congregations in that division — deputies appointed from every particular meeting or congregation in each division to the place fixed upon for transacting the business within it — nature of the business to be transacted — women become deputies, and transact business, equally with the men. L COME, after this long digression, to the courts of the Quakers. And here I shall immediately pre- mise, that I profess to do little more than to give 206 DISCIPLINE. a general outline of these. I do not intend to explain the proceedings, preparatory to the meetings there, or to state all the exceptions from general rules, or to trouble the memory of the reader with more circum- stances than will be sufficient to enable him to have a general idea of this part of the discipline of the Quakers. The Quakers manage their discipline by means of monthly, quarterly, and yearly courts, to which, how- ever they themselves uniformly give the name of meetings. To explain the nature and business of the monthly or first of these meetings, I shall fix upon some county in my own mind, and describe the business, that is usually done in this in the course of the month. For as the business, which is usually transacted in any one county, is done by the Quakers in the same manner and in the same month in another, the reader, by supposing an aggregate of counties, may easily ima- gine, how the whole business of the society is done for the whole kingdom. The Quakers (v) usually divide a county into a number of parts, according to the Quaker-population of it. In each of these divisions there are usually (t») This was the ancient method, when the society was numerous in every county of the kingdom, and the principle is still followed accor- iling to existing circumstances. DISCIPLINE. 2or several meeting-houses, and these have their several congregations attached to them. One meeting-house, however, in each division, is usually fixed upon for transacting the business of all the congregations that are within it, or for the holding of these monthly courts. The different congregations of the Quakers, or the members of the different particular meetings, which are settled in the northern part of the county, are attached of course to the meeting-house, which has been fixed upon in the northern division of it because it gives them the least trouble to repair to it on this occasion. The members of those asrain, which are settled in the southern, or central, or other parts of the county, are attached to that, which has been fixed upon in the southern, or central, or other divisions of it, for the same reason. The different congregations in the northern division of the county appoint, each of them, a set of deputies once a month, which deputies are of both sexes, to repair to the meeting-house, which has been thus assigned them. The different congregations in the southern, central, or other divisions, appoint also, each of them, others, to repair to that, which has been assigned them in like manner. These deputies are all of them previously instructed in the matters, belonging to the congrega- tions, which they respectively represent. 2 08 DISCIPLINE. At length the day arrives for the monthly meeting- The deputies make ready to execute the duties com- mitted to their trust. They repair, each sett of them, to their respective places of meeting. Here a num- ber of Quakers, of different ages ar.d of both sexes, from their different divifsions, repair also. It is expected that (u>) all, who can conveniently attend, should be present on this occasion. When they are collected at the meeting-house, which was said to have been fixed upon in each divi- sion, a meeting for worship takes place. All persons, both men and women, attend together. But when this meeting is over, they separate into different apart- ments for the purposes of the discipline ; the men to transact by themselves the business of the men, and of their own district, the women to transact that, which is more limited, namely such as belongs to their own sex. In the men's meeting, and it is the same in the wo- men's, the names of the deputies beforementioned, are first entered in a book, for, until this act takes place, the meeting for discipline is not considered to be constituted. (iu) There may be persons, who on account of immoral conduct can- not attend. DISCIPLINE. 209 The minutes of the last monthly meeting are then generally read, by which it is seen if any business of the society was left unfinished. Should any thing oc- cur of this sort, it becomes the (x) first object to. be considered and dispatched. The new business, in wfiich the deputies were said to have been previously instructed by the congrega- tions which they represented, comes on. This busi- ness may be of various sorts. One part of it uni- formly relates to the poor. The wants of these arc provided for, and the education of their children taken care of, at this meeting. Presentations of marriages are received, and births, marriages, and funerals are registered. If disorderly members, after long and repeated admonitions, should have given no hopes of amendment, their case is first publicly cognizable in this court. Committees are appointed to visit, ad- vise, and try to reclaim them. Persons, reclaimed by these visitations, are restored to membership, after having been well reported of by the parties de- puted to visit them. The fitness of persons, apply- ing for membership, from other societies, is examined here. Answers also are prepared to the (y) queries at the proper time. Instructions also are given, if (x) The London monthly meetings begin differently from those in the country. (y) These queries -will be explained in the next chapter vol. 1. D d 210 DISCIPLINE. necessary, to particular meetings, suited to the exi- gencies of their cases ; and certificates are granted to members on various occasions. In transacting this, and other business of the soci- ety, all members present are allowed to speak. The poorest man in the meeting-house, though he may be receiving charitable contributions at the time, is en- titled to deliver his sentiments upon any point. He may bring forward new matter. He may approve or object to what others have proposed before him. No person may interrupt him, while he speaks. The youth, who are sitting by, are gaining a knowledge of the affairs and discipline of the society, and arc gradually acquiring sentiments and habits, that are to mark their character in life. They learn, in the first place, the duty of a benevolent and respectful consideration for the poor. In hearing the different cases argued and discussed, they learn, in some mea- sure, the rudiments of justice, and imbibe opinions of the necessity of moral conduct. In these courts they learn to reason. They learn also to hear others patiently, and without interruption, and to transact business, that may come before them in maturer years with regularity and order. I cannot omit to mention here the orderly manner in which the Quakers, conduct their business on these occasions. When a subject is brought before DISCIPLINE. %\l them, it is eanvassed to the exclusion of all extraneous matter, till some conclusion results. The clerk of the monthly meeting then draws up a minute, con- taining, as nearly as he can collect, the substance of this Conclusion. This minute is then read aloud to the auditory, and either stands or undergoes an alter- ation, as appears, by the silence or discussion upon it, to be the sense of the meeting. When fully agreed upon, it stands ready to be recorded. When a se- cond subject comes on, it is canvassed, and a minute is made of it, to be recorded ii> the same manner, before a third is allowed to be introduced. Thus each point is settled, till the whole business of the meeting is concluded. I may now mention that in the same manner as the men proceed in their apartment on this occasion, the women proceed in their own apartment or meet- ing also. There are women-deputies, and women- clerks. They enter down the names of these depu- ties, read the. minutes, of the last monthly meeting, bring forward the new matter, and deliberate and ar- gue on the affairs of their own sex. They record their proceedings equally. The young females also are present, and have similar opportunities of gaining knowledge, and of improving their judgments, and of acquiring useful and moral habits, as the young men. 212 DISCIPLINE. It is usual, when the women have finished the busi- ness of their own meeting, to send one of their mem- bers to the apartments of the men, to know if they have any thing to communicate. This messenger having returned, and every thing having been scitled and recorded in both meetings, the monthly meeting is over, and men, women, and youth of both sexes, return to their respective homes. In the same manner as the different congregations, or members of the different meetings, in any one division of the county, meet together, and transact their monthly business, so other different congrega- tions, belonging to other divisions of the same county, meet at other appointed places, and dispatch their business also. And in the same manner as the busi- ness is thus done in one county, it is done in every other county of the kingdom once a month. DISCIPLINE CHAP. III. Quarterly court or meeting — constitution of this meet- ing — one place in each county is now fixed upon for the transaction qfkiisiness — this place may be differ- ent in the different quarters of the year — deputies from the various monthly meetings are appointed to repair to this place — nature of the business to be transacted — certain queries proposed — written an- swers carried to these by the deputies just mentioned — Queries proposed in the womens meeting also, and anszvered in the same manner. — X HE quarterly meeting of the Quakers, which comes next in order, is much more numerously at- tended than the monthly. The monthly, as we have just seen, superintend the concerns of a few congrega- tions or particular meetings which were contained in a small division of the county. The quarterly meet- ing, on the other hand, superintends the concerns of all the monthly meetings in the county at large. It takes cognizance of course of the concerns of a grea- ter portion of population, and, as the name implies, for a greater extent pf time. The Quaker popula;ion 21* DISCIPLINE. of a (z) whole county is now to assemble in one place. This place, however, is not always the same. It may be different, to accommodate the members in their turn, in the different quarters of the year. In the same manner as the different congregations in a small division of a county bave been shewn to have sent deputies to the respective monthly meet- ings within it, so the different monthly meetings in (he same county send each of them, deputies to the quarterly. Two or more of each sex are generally deputed from each monthly meeting. These depu- ties are supposed to have understood, at the monthly meeting, where they were chosen, all the matters which the discipline required them to know relative to the state and condition of their constituents. Fur- nished with this knowledge, and instructed moreover by written documents on a variety of subjects, they repair at a proper time to the place of meeting. All the Quakers in the district in question, who are ex- pected to go, bend their direction hither. Any person travelling in the county at this time, would see an unusual number of Quakers upon the road directing their journey to the same point. Those who live farthest from the place where the meeting is (c) I still adhere, to g-ivc the reader a clearer Idea of the discipline, : d to prevent confusion, to the division by county, though the district n qtlestiori may not n! rehend a complete county. DISCIPLINE. 215 held, have often a long journey to perform. The Quakers are frequently out two or three whole days, and sometimes longer upon this occasion. But as this sort of meeting takes place but once in the quar- ter, the loss of their time, and the fatigue of their ' journey, and the expences attending it, are borne cheerfully. When all of them are assembled, nearly the same custom obtains at the quarterly, as has been described at the monthly meeting. A meeting for worship is first held. The men and women, when this is over, .separate into their different apartments, after which the meeting for discipline begins in each. I shall not detail the different kinds of business, which come on at this meeting. I shall explain the principal subject only. The society at large have agreed upon a number of questions, or queries as they call them, which they have committed to print, and which they expect to be read and answered in the course of these quarterly meetings. The following is a list of them. I. Are meetings for worship and discipline kept Up, and do Friends attend them duly, and at the time appointed ; and do they avoid all unbecoming behavi- our therein ? II. Is there among you any growth in the truth ; and hath any convincement appeared since last year ? 2 16 DISCiPLINL III. Are Friends preserved in love towards eacli other; if differences arise, is due care taken speedily to end them ; and are Friends careful to avoid and discourage tale-bearing and detraction ? IV. Do Friends endeavour by example and precept to train up their children, servants, and all under their care, in a religious life and conversation, consistent with our christian profession, in the frequent reading of the holy scriptures, and in plainness of speech, behaviour and apparel? V. Are Friends just in their dealings and punctual in fulfilling their engagements ; and are they annually advised carefully to inspect the state of their affairs once in the year ? VI. Are Friends careful to avoid all vain sports and places of diversion, gaming, all unnecessary fre- quenting of taverns, and other public houses, excess in drinking, and other intemperance ? VII. Do Friends bear a faithful and christian tes- timony against receiving and paying tythes, priests demands, and those called church-rates ? VIII. Are Friends faithful in our testimony against bearing arms, and being in any manner concerned in the militia, in privateers, letters of marque, or armed vessels, or dealing in prize-goods ? IX. Are Friends clear of defrauding the king of his customs, duties and excise, and of using, or deal- ing in goods suspected to be run ? DISCIPLINE. 217 X. Are the necessities of the poor among you properly inspected and relieved ; and is good care taken of the education of their offspring ? XL Have any meetings been settled, discontinued, or united since last year ? XII. Are there any Friends prisoners for our testi- monies ; and if any one hath died a prisoner, or been discharged since last year, when and how ? XIII. Is early care taken to admonish such as ap- pear inclinable to marry in a manner contrary to the rules of our society ; and to deal with such as persist in refusing to take counsel ? XIV. Have you two or more faithful friends, ap- pointed by the monthly meeting, as overseers in each particular meeting ; are the rules respecting removals duly observed ; and is due care taken, when any thing appears amiss, that the rules of our discipline be timely and impartially put in practice ? XV. Do you keep a record of the prosecutions and sufferings of your members ; is due care taken to register all marriages, births, and burials ; are the titles of your meeting houses, burial grounds, &c» duly preserved and recorded ; and are all legacies and donations properly secured, and recorded, and du- ly applied ? These are the Questions, which the society ex. pect should be publicly asked and answered in Vol. i. E e 2 IS DISCIPLINE. their quarterly courts or meetings. Some of these are to be answered in one quarterly meeting, and (£5?) others in another ; and all of them in the course of the year. The clerk of the quarterly meeting, when they come to this part of the business, reads the first of the appointed queries to the members present, and is then silent. Soon after this a deputy from one of the monthly meetings comes forward, and producing the written documents, or answers to the queries, all of which were prepared at the meeting where he was chosen, reads that document, which contains a reply to the first query in behalf of the meeting he represents. A deputy from a second monthly meeting then comes forward, and produces his written documents also, and answers the same query in behalf of his own meeting in the same manner. A deputy from a third where there are more than two meetings then produ- ces his documents in his turn, and replies to it also, and this mode is observed, till all the deputies from each of the monthly meetings in the county have an- swered the first query. (ci?) The Quakers consider the punctual attendance of their religious, meetings, the preservation of love among them, and the care of the: poor, of such particular importance, that they require the first, third . and tenth to he answered every quarter. DISCIPLINE. 219 When the first query has been thus fully answered, silence is observed through the whole court. Men> bers present have now an opportunity of making any observations they may think proper. If it should ap^ pear by any of the answers to the first query, that there is any departure from principles on the subject it contains in any of the monthly meetings which the deputies represent, it is noticed by any one present. The observations made by one frequently give rise to observations from another. Advice is sometimes or- dered to be given, adapted to the nature of this de- parture from principles ; and this advice is occas.on- ally circulated, through the medium of the differ! nt monthly meetings, to the particular congregation, where the deviation has taken place. When the first query has been thus read by the clerk, and answered by the deputies, and when observations have been made upon it, and instructions given as now described, a second query is read audibly, and the same process takes place, and similar observations are sometimes made, and instructions given. In the same manner a third query is read by the clerk, and answered by all the deputies, and observed upon by the meeting at large ; and so on a fourth, and a fifth, till all the queries, set apart for the day are answered; 220 DISCIPLINE. It may be proper now to observe, that while, the men in their own meeting-house are thus transacting the quarterly business for themselves, the women, in a different apartment or meeting-house, are conduct- ing it also for their own sex. They read, answer, and observe upon, the queries in the same manner. When they have settled their own business, they send one or two of their members, as they did in the case of the monthly meeting, to the apartment of the men, to know if they have any thing to communicate to them. When the business is finished in both meet- ings, they break up, and prepare for their respective homes. DISCIPLINE. m CHAP. IV. Great yearly court or meeting — constitution of this meet- ing — one place only of meeting fixed upon for the whole kingdom — this the metropolis — deputies ap- pointed to it from the quarterly meetings — business transacted at this meeting — matters decided, not by the influence of numbers, but by the weight of religious character — no head or chairman of this meeting — character of this discipline or government of the Quakers — the laws, relating to it better obey- ed than those under any other discipline or govern- ment — reasons of this obedience. 1 N the order, in which I have hitherto mentioned the meetings for the discipline of the Quakers, we have seen them rising by regular ascent, both in im- portance and power. We have seen each in due progression comprizing the actions of a greater popu- lation than the foregoing, and for a greater period of time. I come now to the yearly meeting, which is possessed of a higher and wider jurisdiction than any that have been yet described. This meeting does not take cognizance of the conduct of particular or of 223 DISCIPLINE. monthly meetings, b\it, at one general view, of the state and conduct of the members of each quarterly meeting, in order to form a judgment of the general state of the society for the whole kingdom. We have seen, on a former occasion, the Quakers with their several duputies repairing to different places in a county ; and we have seen them lately with their deputies again repairing to one great town in the dif- ferent counties at large. We are now to see them repairing to the metropolis of the kingdom. As deputies were chosen by each monthly meeting to represent it in the quarterly meeting, so the quar- terly meetings choose deputies to represent them in the )■ early meeting. These deputies are commission- ed to be the bearers of certain documents to Lon- don, which contain answers in writing to a (a) num- ber of the queries mentioned in the last chapter. These answers are made up from the answers received by the several quarterly meetings from their respec- tive monthly meetings. Besides these they are to carry with them other documents, among which are accounts of sufferings in consequence of a refusal of military service, and of the payment of the demands of the church. The deputies who are now generally four in num- (a) Viz. numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 1? DISCIPLINE. 223 ber for each quarterly meeting, that is, four of each sex (except for the quarterly meetings of York and London, the former of which generally sends eight men and the (b) latter twelve, and each of them the like number of females) having received their different documents, set forward on their journey. Besides these many members of the society repair to the me- tropolis. The distance of three or four hundred miles forms no impediment to the jotMiey. A man connot travel at this time, but he sees the Quakers in mo- tion from all parts, shaping their course to London, there to exercise, as will appear shortly, the power of deputies, judges, and legislators in turn, and to investigate and settle the affairs of the society for the preceding year. It may not be amiss to mention a circumstance, which has not unfrequently occurred upon these oc- casions. A Quaker in low circumstances, but of unblemished life, has been occasionally chosen as one of the deputies to the metropolis even for a county, where the Quaker-population has been considered to be rich. This deputy has scarcely been able, on account of the low state of his finances, to accomplish his journey, and has been known to travel on foot from distantant parts. I mention this circumstance to shew that the society in its choice of representa- (i) The quarterly meeting of London includes Middlesex. 224, DISCIPLINE. tives, shews no respect to persons, but that it pays, even in the persons of the poor, the respect that is due to virtue. The day of the yearly meeting at length arrives. Whole days are now devoted to business, for which various committees are obliged to be appointed. The men, as before, retire to a meeting-house allotted to them, to settle the business for the men and the socie- ty at large, and the women retire to another, to settle that, which belongs to their own sex. There are ne- vertheless, at intervals, meetings for worship at the several meeting houses in the metropolis. One great part of the business of the yearly meeting is to know the state of the society in all its branches of discipline for the preceding year. This is known by hearing the answers brought to the queries from the several quarterly meetings, which are audibly read by the clerk or his assistant, and are taken in rotation alphabetically. If any deficiency in the discipline should appear by means of these documents, in any of the quarterly meetings, remarks follow on the part of the auditor}- , and written advices are ordered to be sent, if it should appear necessary, which are either of a general nature, or particularly directed to those where the deficiency has been observed. Another part of the business of the yearly meeting is to ascertain the amount of the money, called DISCIPLINE. 225 " Friends Sufferings," that is of the money, or the value of the goods, that have been taken from the Quakers for (c) tithes and church dues ; for the society- are principled against the maintenance of any religi- ous ministry, and of course cannot conscientiously pay toward the support of the established church. In consequence of their refusal of payment in the latter case, their goods are seized by a law-process, and sold to the best bidder. Those, Mho have the charge of these executions, behave differently. Some wan- tonly take such goods, as will not sell for a quarter of their value, and others much more than is necessary, and others again kindly select those, which in the sale will be attended with the least loss. This amount, arising from this confiscation of their property, is easi- lv ascertained from the written answers of the depu- ties. The sum for each county is observed, and not- ed down. The different sums are then added toge- ther, and the amount for the whole kingdom within the year is discovered. In speaking of tithes and church-dues I must cor- rect an error, that is prevalent. It is usually under- stood, when Quakers suffer on these accounts, that their losses are made up by the society at large. No- (c) Distraints or imprisonment for refusing to serve in the militia arc included also under the head " sufferings." Vol. i. Ff 286 DISCIPLINE. thin^ can be more false than this idea, Were their lo s made up on such occasions, there would be no suffering. The fact is, that whatever a person loses in this way is his own total loss ; nor is it ever refund- ed, though, in consequence of expensive prosecutions at law, it has amounted to the whole of the property of those, who have refused the payment of these de- mands. If a man were to come to poverty on this ac- count, he would undoubtedly be supported, but he would only be supported as belonging to the poor of the society. Among the subjects, introduced at this meeting, may be that of any new regulations for the govern- ment of the society. The Quakers are not so blind- ly attached to antiquity, as to keep to customs, mere- ly because they are of an ancient date. But they art ready, on conviction, to change, alter, and improve. When, however, such regulations or alterations are proposed, they must come not through the medium of an individual, but through the medium of one of the quarterly meetings. There is also a variety of other business at the year- ly meeting. Reports are received and considered on the subject of Ackworth school, which was mention- ed in a former part of the work as a public seminary Of the society. DISCIPLINE. 227 Letters are also read from the branches of the soci- ety in foreign parts, and answers prepared to them. Appeals also are heard in various instances, and de- termined in this court. I may mention here two circumstances, that are worthy of notice on these occasions. It may be observed that whether such business as that, which I have just detailed or any of any other sort comes before the yearly meeting at large, it is de- cided, not by the influence of numbers, but by the weight of religious character. As most subjects af- ford cause for a difference of opinion, so the Quakers at this meeting are found taking their different sides of the argument, as they believe it right. Those how- ever, who are in opposition to any measure, if they perceive by the turn the debate takes, either that they are going against the general will, or that they are op- posing the sentiments of paembers of high moral re- putation in the society^give way. And so far do the Quakers carry their condescension on these occasions, that if a few ancient and respectable individuals seem to be dissatisfied with any measure that may have been proposed, though otherwise respectably supported, the measure is frequently postponed, out of tenderness to the feelings of such members, and from a desire of • gaining them in time by forbearance. But, in what- ever way the question before them is settled, no divi- 228 DISCIPLINE. sion is ever called for. No counting of numbers is allowed. No protest- is suffered to be entered. In such a case there can be no ostensible leader of any party ; no ostensible minority or majority. The Quakers are of opinion that such things, if allowed, would be inconsistent with their profession. They would lead also to broils and divisions, and ultimate- ly to the detriment of the society. Every measure therefore is settled by the Quakers at this meeting in the way I have mentioned, in brotherly love, and as the name of the society signifies, as Friends. The other remarkable circumstance is, that there is no ostensible president or [d) head of this great as- sembly, nor any ostensible president or head of any one of its committees ; and yet the business of the so- ciety is conducted in as orderly a manner, as it is pos- sible to be among any body of men, where the number is so great, and where evc*y individual has a right to speak. The state of the society having by this time been ascertained, both in the meetings of the women and of the men, from the written answers of the different de- puties, and from the reports of different committees, . (d) Christ is supposed by the Quakers to be the heatl, under whos^ guidance all their deliberations ought to take place. DISCIPLINE. 229 and the (e) other business of the meeting having been nearly finished, a committee, which had been previ* ously chosen, meet to draw up a public letter. This letter usually comprehends three subjects: first, the state of the society, in which the sufferings for tithes and other demands of the church are includ- ed. This state, in all its different branches, the com- mittee ascertain by inspecting the answers, as brought by the deputies before mentioned. A second subject, comprehended in the letter, is advice to the society for the regulation of their moral and civil conduct. This advice is suggested partly from the same written answers, and partly by the cir- cumstances of the times. Are there, for instance, any vicious customs creeping into the society, or any new dispositions among its members contrary to the Quaker principles ? The answ ers brought by the de- puties shew it, and advice is contained in the letter adapte I to the case. Are the times, seasons of diffi- culty and embarrassment in the commercial world ? Is the aspect of the political horizon gloomy, and does it appear big with convulsions ? New admonition and advices follow. (<*) This may relate to the printing' of books, to testimonies concern- ing deceased ministers, addresses to the king", if thought necessary., ii'l the like. 230 DISCIPLINE. A third subject, comprehended in the letter, and which I believe since the year 1787 has frequently formed a standing article in it, is the slave-trade. The Quakers consider this trade as so extensively big with misery to their fellow creatures, that their members ought to have a deep and awful feeling, and a religious care and concern about it. This and occasionally other subjects having been duly weighed by the com- mittee, they begin to compose the letter. When the letter is ready, it is brought into the pub- lic meeting, and the whole of it, without interruption, is first read audibly. It is then read over again, and canvassed, sentence by sentence. Every sentence, nay every word, is liable to alteration ; for any one may make his remarks, and nothing can stand but by the sense of the meeting. When finally settled and approved, it is printed and dispersed among the mem- bers throughout the nation. This letter may be con- sidered as informing the society of certain matters, that occurred in the preceding year, and as conveying to them admonitions on various subjects. This letter is emphatically stiled "the General Epistle." The yearly meeting, having now lasted about ten days, is dissolved after a solemn pause, and the different depu- ties are at liberty to return home. This important institution of the yearly meeting brings with it, on every return, its pains and pleasures. DISCIPLINE. 231 To persons of maturer years, who sit at this time on committee after commit ee, and have various offices to perform, it is certainly an aniversary of care and anxiety, fatigue and trouble. But it affords them, on the other hand, occasions of innocent delight. Some, educated in the same school, and others, united by the ties of blood and youthful friendship, but separated from one another by following in distant situations the various concerns of life, meet together in the intervals of the disciplinary business, and feel, in the warm recognition of their ancient intercourse, a pleasure, which might have been delayed for years, but for the intervention of this occasion. To the youth it affords an opportunity, amidst this concourse of members, of seeing those who are reputed to be of the most ex- emplary character in the society, and whom they would not have had the same chance of seeing at any other time. They are introduced also at this season to their relations and family friends. They visit about, and form new connections in the society, and are permitted the enjoyment of other reasonable plea- sures. Such is the organization of the discipline or govern- ment of the Quakers. Nor may it improperly be call- ed a government, when we consider that, besides all matters relating to the church, it takes cognizance of the actions of Quakers to Quakers, and of these t« :32 DISCIPLINE. their fellow-citizens, and of these again to the state ; in f.ictof all actions of Quakers, if immoral in the eye of the society, as soon as they are known. It gives out its prohibitions. It marks its crimes. It impos- es offices on its subjects. It calls them to disciplin- ary duties. {/) This government how ever, notwith- standing its power, has, as I observeel before, no pre- sident or head, either permanent or temporary. There is no first man through the whole society. Neither has it any badge of office, or mace, or constables staff or sworel. It may be observed also, that it has no office of emolument, by which its hands can be strengthened, neither minister, elder, (g) clerk, over- seer, nor deputy, being paid ; and yet its administra- tion is firmly conducted, and its laws better obeyed, than laws by persons under any other denomination or government. The constant assemblage of the Qua- kers at their places of worship, and their unwearied at- tendances at the monthly and quarterly meetings, which they must often frequent at a great distance, to their own personal inconvenience, and to the hind- rance of their worldly concerns, must be admitted, in part, as proofs of the last remark. But when we (f) The government or discipline is considered, as a theocracy. (g) The clerk, who keeps the records of the society in London, is the only person who has a sala-^ DISCIPLINE. 233 consider them as a distinct pe ople, differing in their manner of speech and in their dress and customs from ethers, rebelling against fashion and the fashionable world, and likely therefore to become rather the ob- jects of ridicule than of praise ; when we consider these things, and their steady and rigid perseverance in the peculiar rules and customs of the society, we cannot but consider their obedience to their own discipline, which makes a point of the observance of these singularities, as extraordinary. This singular obedience, however, to the laws of the soci. ty may be accounted for on three principles. In the first place in no society is there so much vigi- lance over the conduct of its members, as in that of the Quakers, as this history of their discipline must have already manifested. This vigilance of course, cannot miss of its effect. But a second cause is the following. The Quaker-laws and regulations are not made by any one person, nor by any number even of deputies. They are made by themstlves, that is by the society in yearly meeting assembled. If a bad law, or the repeal of a good one, be proposed, every one present, without distinction, has a right to speak against the motion. The proposition cannot pass against the sense of the meeting. If persons are not present, it is their own fault. Thus it happens that every law, passed at the yearly meeting, may be consi- Vol. i. Gg 234 DISCIPLINE, dered, in some measure, as the law of every Quaker's own will, and people are much more likely to follow regulations made by their own consent, than those which are made against it. This therefore has unv questionably an operation as a second cause. A third may be traced in the peculiar sentiments, which the Quakers hold as a religious body. They believe that many of their members, when they deliver them- selves publicly on any subject at the yearly meeting, are influ.nced by the dictates of the pure principle, or by the spirit of truth. Hence the laws of the society, which are considered to be the result of such influen- ces, have with them the sanction of spiritual authori- ty. They pay them therefore a greater deference on this account, than they would to laws, which they conceive to have been the production of the mere imagination, or will, of man. DISCIPLINE- %25 CHAP. V. Disowning — foundation of the right of disowning — disowning no slight punishment — wherein the hard- ship or suffering consists^ X SHALL conclude the discipline of the Quakers by making a few remarks on the subject of disowning. The Quakers conceive they have a right to excom- municate or disown ; because persons, entering into any society, have a right to make their own reasonable rules of membership, and so early as the year 1663, this practice had been adopted by George Fox, and those who were in religious union with him. Those, who are born in the society, are bound of course, to abide by these rules, while they continue to be the rules of the general will, or to leave it. Those who come into it by convincement, are bound to follow them, or not to sue for admission into membership. This right of disowning, which arises from the reasonable- ness of the things the Quakers consider to have been pointed out and established by the author of the chris- tian religion, who determined that (h) if a disorderly I'M Matt. 18. v. IT- 236 DISCIPLINE. person, alter having received repeated admonitions,, should stiii continue disorderly, he should be consi- dered as an alien by the church. The observations, which I shall make on the sub- ject of disowning, will be wholly confined to it as it must operate as a source of suffering to those, who are sentenced to undergo it. People are apt to say, u where is the hardship of being disowned? a man, though disowned by the Quakers, may still go to their meetings for worship, or he may worship if he chooses, with other dissenters, or with those of the church of England, for the doors of all places of wor- ship are open to those, who desire to enter them." I shall state therefore in what this hardship consists, and I should have done it sooner, but that I could never have made it so well understood as after an ex- planation had been given of the discipline of the Qua- kers, or, as in the present place. There is no doubt that a person, who is disowned, will be differently affected by different considerations. Something will depend upon the circumstance, whe- ther he considers himself as disowned for a moral or a political offence. Something, again, whether he has been in the habit of attending the meetings for dis- cipline, and what estimation he may put upon these. But whether he has been regular or not in these at- tendances, it is certain that he has a power and a con- DISCIPLINE. 2"3fir sequence, while he remains in his own society, which he loses when he leaves it, or when he becomes a member of the world. The reader will have already ©bserved, that in no society is a man, if I may use the expression, so much of a man, as in that of the Qua- kers, or in no society is there such an equality of rank and privileges. A Quaker is called, as we have seen, to the exercise of important and honourable functions. He sits in his monthly meeting, as it were in coun- cil, with the rest of the members. He sees all equal but he sees none superior, to himself. He may give his advice on any question. He may propose new matter. He may argue and reply. In the quarterly meetings he is called to the exercise of the same pri- vileges, but on a larger scale. And at the yearly meeting he may, if he pleases, unite in his own per- son the offices of council, judge, and legislator. But when he leaves the society, and goes out into the world, he has no such station or power. He sees there every body equal to himself in privileges, and thousands above him. It is in this loss of his former consequence that he must feel a punishment in having been disowned. For he can never be to his own feel- ings what he was before. It is almost impossible that he should not feel a diminution of his dignity and importance as a man. 238 DISCIPLINE Neither can he restore himself to these privileges by going to a distant part of the kingdom and resid- ing among qnakers there, on a supposition that his disownment may be concealed. For a Quaker, go- ing to a new abode among Quakers, must carry with him a certificate of his conduct from the last monthly meeting which he left, or he cannot be received as a member. But besides losing these privileges, which confer consequence upon him, he looses others of another kind. He cannot marry in the society. His affirraa^ tion will be no longer taken instead of his oath. If a poor man, he is no longer exempt from the militia, if drawn by submitting to three months imprison- ment ; nor is he entitled to that comfortable mainte- nance, in case of necessity, which the society provide for their own poor. To these considerations it may not perhaps be su perfluous to add, that if he continues to mix with the members of his own society, he will occasionally find circumstances arising, which will remind him of his former state : and if he transfers his friendship to others, he will feel awkward and uneasy, and out of his element, till he has made his temper, his opinions, and his manners, harmonize with those of his new as- sociates of the world Peculiar Customs OF THE QUAKERS. PECULIAR CUSTOMS OF THE QUAKERS. CHAP. I. SECT. I. Dress — Quakers distinguished by their dress from others — great extravagance in dress in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries — this extravagance had reached the clergy — but religious individuals kept to their an- tie fit dresses — the dress which the men of this des- cription wore hi those days — dress of the women of this description also — George Fox and the Quakers springing out of these ; carried their plain fiabits with them into their new society. X HAVE now explained, in a very ample manner, the moral education and discipline of the Quakers. I shall proceed to the explanation of such customs, as seem peculiar to them as a society of christians. The dress of the Quakers is the first custom of this nature, that I purpose to notice. They stand distin- guished be means of it from all other religious bodies Vol.1. Hh 242 PECULIAR CUSTOMS The men wear neither lace, frills, ruffles, swords, not any of the ornaments used by the fashionable world. The women wear neither lace, flounces, lappets, rings, bracelets, necklaces, ear-rings, nor any thing belonging to this class. Both sexes are also particular in the choice of the colour of their clothes. All gay colours such as red, blue, green, and yellow, are exploded. Dressing in this manner, a Quaker is known by his apparel through the whole kingdom. This is not the case v ith any other individuals of the island, except the clergy ; and these, in consequence of the black garments worn by persons on account of the death of their relations, are not always distinguished from others. I know of no custom among the Quakers, which has more excited the curiosity of the world, than this of their dress, and none, in which they have been more mistaken in their conjectures concerning it. (i) In the early times of the English History, dress had been frequently restricted by the government. — Persons of a certain rank and fortune were permitted to wear only cloathing of a certain kind. But these restrictions and distinctions were gradually broken down, and people, as they were able and willing, launched out into unlimited extravagance in their (i) See Strut's Antiquities. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 243 dress. The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and down from thence to the time when the Quakers first appeared, were periods, particularly noticed for prod- igality in the use of apparel, there was noth ng too expensive or too preposterous to be worn. Our an- cestors also, to use an ancient quotation, " were ne- ver constant to one colour or fashion two months to an end. " We can have no idea by the present genera- tion, of the folly in such respects, of these early ages. But these follies were not confined to the laiety. Af- fectation of parade, and gaudy cloathing, were admit- ted among many of the clergy, who incurred the seve- rest invectives of the poets on that account. The ploughman, in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, is full upon this point. He gives us the following descrip- tion of a Priest " That hye on horse wylleth to ride, In glytter ande gold of great araye, T painted and pertred all in pryde, No common Knyght may go so gaye ; Chaunge of clothyng every daye, With golden gyrdles great and small, As boysterous as is bere at baye ; All suche falshed mote nede fall." To this he adds, that many of them had more than #ne or two mitres, embellished with pearls, like the >244 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. head of a queen, and a staff of gold set with jewels, as heavy as lead. He then speaks of their appearing out of doors with broad bucklers and long swords, or with baldries about their necks, instead of stoles, t© which their basellards were attached. " Bucklers brode and sweardes longe* Baudryke with baselards kene." He then accuses them with wearing gay gowns of scarlet and green colours, ornamented with cut- work, and for the long pykes upon their shoes. But so late as the year 1652 we have the fol- lowing anecdote of the whimsical dress of a clergy- man. John Owen, Dean of Christ church, and Vice- Chancellor of Oxford, is represented as wearing a lawn-band, as having his hair powdered and his hat curiously cocked. He is described also as wearing Spanish leather-boots with lawn-tops, and snake- bone band-strings with large tassels, and a large set of ribbands pointed at his knees with points or tags at the end. And much about the same time, when Charles the second was at Newmarket, Nathaniel Vincent, doctor of divinity, fellow of Clare-hall, and chaplain in ordinary to his majesty, preached before him. But the king Mas so displeased with the foppe- ry of this preacher's dress, that he commanded the PECULIAR CUSTOMS; 245 duke of Monmouth, then chancellor of the university, to cause the statutes concerning decency of apparel among the clergy to be put into execution, which was accordingly done. These instances are sufficient to shew, that the taste for preposterous and extrava- gant dress must have operated like a contagion in those times, or the clergy would scarcely have dressed themselves in this ridiculous and censurable manner. But although this extravagance was found among many orders of society at the time of the appearance of George Fox, yet many individuals had set their faces against the fashions of the world. These con- sisted principally of religious people of different de- nominations, most of whom were in the middle classes of life. Such persons were found in plain and simple habits notwithstanding the contagion of the example of their superiors in rank. The men of this description generally wore plain round hats with common crowns. They had discarded the sugar-loaf-hat, and the hat turned up with a silver clasp on one side, as well as ■all ornaments belonging to it, such as pictures, fea- thers, and bands of various colours. They had adopt- ed a plain suit of clothes. They wore cloaks, when necessary, over these. But both the clothes and the cloaks were of the same colour. The colour of each of them was either drab or grey. Other people who followed the fashions, wore white, red, green, 246 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. yellow, violet, scarlet, and other colours, which were expensive, because they were principal y dyed in for- eign parts. The drab consisted of the white wool undyed, and the grey of the white wool mixed with the black, which was undyed also. These colours were then the colours of the clothes, because they were the least expensive, of the peasants of Eng- land, as they are now of those of Portugal and Spain. They had discarded also, all ornaments, such as of lace, or bunches of ribbands at the knees, a: d their buttons were generally of alchymy, as this composi- tion was then termed, or of the same colour as their clothes. The grave and religious women also, like the men, had avoided the fashions of their times. These had adopted the cap, and the black hood for their head- dress. The black hood had been long the distinguish- ing mark of a grave matron. All prostitutes, so early as Edward the third, had been forbidden to wear it. In after-times it was celebrated by the epithet of vene- rable by the poets, and had been introduced by painters as the representative of virtue. When fashionable women had discarded it, which was the case in George Fox's time, the more sober, on account of these ancient marks of its sanctity, had re- tained it, and it was then common among them. With respect to the hair of grave and sober women PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 247 in those days, it was worn plain, and covered occasi- onally by a plain hat or bonnet. They had avoided by this choice those preposterous head-dresses and bonnets, which none but those, who have seen paint- ings of them, could believe ever to have been worn. They admitted none of the large ruifs, that were then in use, but chose the plain handkerchief for their necks, differing from those of others, which had rich point, and curious lace. They rejected the crimson sattin doublet w ith black velvet skirts, and contented themselves with a plain gown, generally of stuff, and of a drab, or grey, or btiff, or buffin colour, as it was called, and faced with buckram. These colours, as I observed before, were die colours worn by country people ; and were not expensive, because they were not dyed. To this gown was added a green apron. Green aprons had been long worn in Eng- land, yet, at the time I allude to, they were out of fashion, so as to be ridiculed by the gay. But old fashioned people still retained them. Thus an idea of gravity was conm cted with them ; and therefore religious and steady women adopted them, as the grave and sober garments of ancient times. It may now be observed that from these religious persons, habited in this manner, in opposition to the fashions of the world, the primitive Quakers generally sprung. George Fox himself wore the plain grey 2)48 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. coat that has been noticed, with alchymy buttons, and a plain leather girdle about his waist. When the Quakers therefore first met in religious union, they met in these simple clothes. They made no alteration in their dress on account of their new religion. They prescribed no form or colour as distinguishing marks of their sect, but they carried with them the plain habits of their ancestors into the new society, as the habits of the grave and sober people of their own times; PECULIAR CUSTOMS 24$ SECT. II. But though George Fox introduced no new dress into the society, he was not indifferent on the subject—* he recommended simplicity and plainness — and de- claimed aga'mst the fashions of the times— supported by Barclay andPenn — these explained the objects of dress — the influence of these explanations — dress at length incorporated into the discipline — but no stand- ard fixed either of shape or colour — the objects of dress only recognized, and simplicity recommended— a new Era — great variety allowable by the discipline — Quakers have deviated less fr Om the dress of their ancestors than other people. HOUGH George Fox never introduced any new or particular garments, when he formed the society, as models worthy of the imitation of those who joined him, yet, as a religious man, he was not indifferent upon the subject of dress. Nor could he, as a re- former, see those extravagant fashions, which I have shewn to have existed in his time, without publicly noticing them. We find him accordingly recom- mending to his followers simplicity and plainness of Vol. i. J i i 5 o PECULIAR CUSTOMS. apparel, and bearing his testimony against the prepos*. terous and fluctuating apparel of the world. In the various papers, which he wrote or gave forth upon this subject, he laid it down as a position, that all ornaments, superfluities, and unreasonable chan- ges in dress, manifested an earthly or worldly spirit. He laid it down again, that such things, being adopt- ed principally for the lust of the eye, were productive of vanity and pride, and that, in proportion as men paid attention to these outward decorations and chan- ges, they suffered some loss in the value and dignity of their minds. He considered also all such decora- tions and changes, as contrary both to the letter and the spirit of the scriptures. Isaiah, one of the great- est prophets under the law, had severely reproved the daughters of Israel on Account of their tinkling orna- ments, cauls, round tires, chains, bracelets, rings, and ear-rings. St. Paul also and St. Peter had both of them cautioned the women of their own times, to adorn themselves in modest apparel, and not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array. And the former had spoken to both sexes indiscri- minately not to conform to the world, in which latter expression he evidently included all those customs of the world, of whatsoever nature, that were in any manner injurious to the morality of the minds ot those who followed them* PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 251 By the publication of these sentiments, George Fox shewed to the world, that it was his opinion, that religion, though it prescribed no particular form of apparel, was not indifferent as to the general subject of dress. These sentiments became the sentiments of his followers. But the society was coming fast into a new situation. When the members of it first met in union, they consisted of grown up persons ; of such, as had had their minds spiritually exercised, and their judgments convinced in religious matters : of such in fact as had been Quakers in spirit, before they had become Quakers by name. All admonitions therefore on the subject of dress were unnecessary for such persons. But many of those, who had join- ed the society, had brought with them children into it, and from the marriages of others, children were daily springing up. To the latter, in a profligate age, where the fashions were still raging from without, and making an inroad upon the minds and morals of individuals, some cautions were necessary for the preservation of their innocence in such a storm. For these were the reverse of their parents. Young, in point of age, they were Quakers by name, before they could become Quakers in spirit. Robert Bar- clay therefore, and William Penn, kept alive the sub- jeet of dress, which George F x had been the first to notice in the society. They followed him on his 252 PECULIAR CUSTOMS; scriptural ground. They repeated the arguments, that extravagant dress manifested an earthly spirit, and that it was productive of vanity and pride. But they strengthened the case by adding arguments of their own. Among these I may notice, that they considered what were the objects of dress. They reduced these to two, to decency, and comfort, in which latter idea was included protection from the varied inclemencies of the weather. Every thing therefore beyond these they considered as superfluous. Of course all ornaments would become censurable, and all unreasonable changes indefensible, upon such a system. These discussions, however, on this subject never occasioned the more ancient Quakers to make any alteration in their dress, for they continued as when they had come into the society, to be a plain people. But they occasioned parents to be more vigilant over their children in this respect, and they taught the society to look upon dress, as a subject connected with the christian religion, in any case, where it could become injurious to the morality of the mind. In process of time therefore as the fashions continued to spread, and the youth of the society began to come under their dominion, the Quakers incorporated dress among other subjects of their discipline. Hence no member, after this period, could dress him- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 253 self preposterously, or follow the fleeting fashions of the world, without coming under the authority of friendly and wholesome admonition. Hence an an- nual inquiry began to be made, if parents brought up their children to dress consistently with their chris- tian profession. The society, however, recommend- ed only simplicity and plainness to be attended to on this occasion. They prescribed no standard, no form, no colour, for the apparel of their members. They acknowledged the two great objects of decency and comfort, and left their members to clothe them- selves consistently \vith these, as it was agreeable to their convenience or their disposition. A new sera commenced from this period. Persons already in the society, continued of course in their ancient dresses : if others had come into it by con- vincement, who had led gay lives, they laid aside their gaudy garments, and took those that were more plain. And the children of both, from this time, began to be habited from their youth as their parents were. But though the Quakers had thus brought apparel under the disciplinary cognizance of the society, yet the dress of individuals was not always alike, nor did it continue always one and the same even with the primitive Quakers. Nor has it continued one and the same with their descendants. For decency $54 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. and comfort having been declared to be the true and only objects of dress, such a latitude was given, as to admit of great variety in apparel. Hence if we were to see a groupe of modern Quakers before us, we should probably not find any two of them dressed alike. Health, we all know, may require alteration in dress. Simplicity may suggest others. Conve- nience again may point out others ; and yet all these various alterations may be consistent with the objects before specified. And here it may be observed that the society, during its existence for a century and a half, has without doubt, in some degree, impercepti- bly followed the world, though not in its fashions, yet in its improvements of cloathing. It must be obvious again, that some people are of a grave, and that others are of a lively disposition, and that these will probably never dress alike. Other members again, but particularly the rich, have a larger intercourse than the rest of them, or mix more with the world. These again will probably dress a little differently from others, and yet, regarding the two great objects of dress, their cloathing may come within the limits which these allow. Indeed if there be any, whose apparel would be thought exceptiona- ble by the society, these would be found among the rich. Money, in all societies, generally takes the liberty of introducing exceptions. Nothing, however PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 255 is more true, than that, even among the richest of the Quakers, there is frequently as much plainness and simplicity in their outward dress, as among the poor ; and where the exceptions exist, they are sel- dom carried to an extravagant, and never to a pre- posterous extent From this account it will be seen, that the ideas ef the world are erroneous on the subject of the dress of the Quakers ; for it has always been imagined, that, when the early Quakers first met in religious union, they met to deliberate and fix upon some stand- ard, which should operate as a political institution, by which the members should be distinguished by their apparel from the rest of the world. The whole his- tory, however, of the shape and colour of the garments of the Quakers is, as has been related, namely, that the primitive Quakers dressed like the sober, steady, and religious people of the age, in which the society- sprung up, and that their descendants have departed less in a course of time, than others, from the dress of their ancestors. The mens hats are nearly the same now, except that they have stays and loops, and many of their clothes are nearly of the same shape and colour, as in the days of George Fox. The dress of the women also is nearly similar. The black hoods indeed have gone, in a certain degree, out of use. But many of such women, as are ministers and elders, and indeed many others of age and gravity of manners? 25S PECULIAR CUSTOMS. still retain them. The green apron also has been nearly, if not wholly lakl aside. There was here and there an ancient woman, who used it within the last ten years, but I am told that the last of these died lately. No other reasons can be given, than those which have been assigned, why Quaker-women should have been found in the use of a colour, which is so unlike any other which they now use in their dress. Upon the whole, if the females were still to retain the use of the black hood and the green apron, and the men were to discard the stays and loops for their hats, we should find that persons of both sexes in the society, but particularly such as are antiquated, or as may be deemed old fashioned in it, would approach very near to the first or primitive Quakers in their appearance, both as to the sort, and to the shape, and to the colour of their clothes. Thus has George Fox, by means of the advice he gave upon this subject, and the general discipline which he introduced into the society, kept up for a hundred and fifty years, against the powerful attacks of the varying fashions of the world, one steady, and uniform, external appearance among his descendants ; an event, which neither the clergy by means of their sermons, nor other writers, whether grave or gay, were able to accomplish during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and which none of their successors have been able to accomplish from that time to the present PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 257 SECT. III. The world usually make objections to the Quaker- dress — the charge is that there is a preciseness in it which is equivalent to the worshipping of forms — the truth of this charge not to be ascertained but by a knowledge of the heart — but outward facts make against it — such as the origin of the Quaker- dress — and the Quaker -doctrine on dress — doctrine of Christianity on this suhject-r— opinion of the early christians upon it — reputed advantages of the Qua-x ker-dress. JL SHOULD have been glad to have dismissed the subject of the Quaker-dress in the last sec- tion, but so many objections are usually made against it, that I thought it right to stop for a while to consider them in the present place. Indeed, if I were to choose a subject, upon which the world had been more than ordinarily severe on the Quakers, I should select that of their dress. Almost every body has something to say upon this point. And as in almost all cases, where arguments are numerous, many of them are generally frivolous, so it has happened in Vol. 1. K k 25g PECULIAR CUSTOMS. this also. There is one, however, which it is im- possible not to notice upon this subject. The Quakers, it is confessed by their adversaries, are not chargeable with the same sort of pride and vanity, which attach to the characters of other people, who dress in a gay manner, and who follow the. fashions of the world, but it is contended, on the other hand, that they are justly chargeable with a preciseness, that is disgu ting, in the little particu- larities of their cloathing. This precise attention to particularities is considered as little better than the worshipping of lifeless forms, and is usually called by the world the idolatry of the Quaker-dress. This charge, if it were true, would be serious in- deed. It would be serious, because it would take away from the religion of the Quakers one of its greatest and best characters. For how could any people be spiritually minded, who were the worship- pers of lifeless forms ? It would be serious again, because it would shew their religion, like the box of Pandora, to be pregnant with evils within itself. For people, who place religion in particular forms, must unavoidably become superstitious. It would be serious again, because if parents were to carry such notions into their families, they would produce mischief. " The young would be dissatisfied, if forced to cultivate particularities, for which they see no PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 259 just or substantial reason. Dissentions would arise among them. Their morality too would be con- founded, if they were to see these minutiae idolized at home, but disregarded by persons of known reli- gious character in the world. Add to which, that they might adopt erroneous notions of religion. For they might be induced to lay too much stress upon the payment of the anise and cummin, and too little up- on the observance of the weightier matters of the law. As the charge therefore is unquestionably a serious one, I shall not allow it to pass without some com- ments. And in the first place it may be observed that, whether this preciseness, which has been im- puted to some Quakers, amounts to an idolizing of forms, can never be positively determined, except we had the power of looking into the hearts of those, who have incurred the charge. We may form, how- ever, a reasonable conjecture, whether i does or not by presumptive evidence, taken from incontroverti- ble outward facts. The first outward fact that presents itself to us, is the fact of the origin of the Quaker- dress, if the early Quakers, when they met in religious union, had met to deliberate and fix upon a form or standard of apparel for the society, in vain could any person have expected to repel this charge. But no such standard was ever fixed. The dress of the Quakers 260 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. has descended from father to son in the way that has been described. There is reason therefore to sup- pose, that the Quakers as a religious body, have deviated less than others from the primitive habits of their ancestors, rather from a fear of the effects of unreasonable changes of dress upon the mind, than f om an attachment to lifeless forms. The second outward fact, which may be resorted to as furnishing a ground for reasonable conjecture, is the doctrine of the Quakers upon this subject. The Quakers profess to follow Christianity in all cases, where its doctrines can be clearly ascertained. I shall state therefore what Christianity says upon this point. I shall shew that what Quakerism says is in unison with it. And I shall explain more at large the principle, that has given birth to the discipline of the Quakers relative to their dress. Had Christianity approved of the make or co- lour of any particular garment, it would have approv- ed of those of its founder and of his apostles. We do not, hew ever, know, what any of these illustri- ous personages wore. They were probably dressed in the habits of Judean peasants, and not with any marked difference from those of the same rank in life. And that they were dressed plainly, we have ever)- reason to believe, from the censures, which some of them passed on the superfluities of apparel. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 261 But Christianity has no where recorded these habits as a pattern, nor has it prescribed to any man any form or colour for his clothes. But Christianity, though it no where places religion in particular forms, is yet not indifferent on the gene- ral subject of dress. For in the first place it discards all ornaments, as appears by the testimonies of St. Paul and St. Peter before quoted, and this it does evidently on the ground of morality, lest these, by puffing up the creature, should be made to give birth to the censurable passions of vanity and lust. In the second place it forbids all unreasonable changes on the plea of conformity with the fashions of the world : and it sets its face against these also upon moral grounds ; because the following of the fashions of the world begets a worldly spirit, and because, in propor- tion as men indulge this spirit, they are found to fol- low the loose and changeable morality of the world, instead of the strict and steady morality of the gospel. That the early christians understood these to be the doctrines of Christianity, there can be no doubt. The Presbyters and the Asceticks, I believe, changed the Palluim for the Toga in the infancy of the chris- tian world; but all other christians were left un- distinguished by their dress. These were generally clad in the sober manner of their own times. They observed a medium between costliness and sordidness. 262 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. That they had no particular form for their dress be- yond that of other grave people, Ave learn from Justin Martyr. " They aifected nothing fantastic, says he, but, living among Greeks and barba; ians, they followed the customs of the country, and in clothes, and in diet, and in all other affairs of outward life, they shewed the excellent and admirable consti- tution of their discipline and conversation." That they discarded superfluities and ornaments we may collect from various authors of those times. Basil reduced the objects of cloathing to two, namely, " Honesty and necessity," that is, to decency and protection. Tertullian laid it down as a doctrine that a christian should not only be chaste, but that he should appear so outwardly. " The garments which we should wear, says Clemens of Alexandria, should be modest and frugal, and not wrought of divers colours, but plain." Crysasium commends Olym- pias, a lady of birth and fortune, for having in her garment nothing that was wrought or gaudy. Jerome praises Paula, another lady of quality, for the same reason. We find also that an unreasonable change of cloathing, or a change to please the eye of the world, was held improper. Cyril says, " we should not strive for variety, having clothes for home, and others for ostentation abroad." In short the ancient fathers frequently complained of the abu sc of apparel in the ways described. PECULIAR CUSTOMS; 263 Exactly in the same manner, and in no other, iiave the Quakers considered the doctrines of Christi- anity on the subject of dress. They have never adopted any particular model either as to form or colour for their clothes. They have regarded the two objects of decency and comfort. But they have allowed of various deviations consistently with these. They have in fact fluctuated in their dress. The English Quaker wore formerly a round hat. He wears it now with stays and loops. But even this fashion is not universal, and seems rather now on the decline. The American Quaker, on the other hand, has generally kept to the round hat. Black hoods were uniformly worn by the Quaker- women, but the use of these is much less than it was, and is still de- creasing. The Green aprons also were worn by the females, but they are now wholly out of use. But these changes could never have taken place, had there been any fixed standard for the Quaker dress. But though the Quakers have no particular model for their clothing, yet they are not indifferent to dress where it may be morally injurious. They have dis- carded all superfluities and ornaments, because they may be hurtful to the mind. They have set their faces also against all unreasonable changes of forms for the same reasons. They have allowed other rea- sons also to weigh with them in the latter case. They 264 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. have received from their ancestors a plain suit of ap= parel, which has in some little degree followed the im- provements of the world, and they see no good rea- son why they should change it ; at least they see in the fashions of the world none but a censurable reason for a change. And here it may be observed, that it is not an attachment to forms, but an unreasonable change or deviation from them, that the Quakers re- gard. Upon the latter idea it is, that their discipline is in a great measure founded, or, in other words, the Quakers, as a religious body, think it right to watch in their youth any unreasonable deviation from the plain apparel of the society. This they do first, because any change beyond Usefulness must be made upon the plea of conformi- ty to the fashions of the world. Secondly, because any such deviation in their youth is considered to shew, in some measure, a deviation from simplicity of heart. It bespeaks the beginning of an unstable mind. It shews there must have been some improper motive for the change. Hence it argues a weakness in the deviating persons, and points them out as objects to be strengthened by wholesome admonition. Thirdly, because changes, made without reasona- ble motives, would lead, if not watched and checked, to other still greater changes, and because an unin- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 265 terrupted succession of such changes would bring the minds of their youth under the most imperious despotisms, the despotism of fashion; in consequence of which they would cleave to the morality of the world instead of the morality of the gospel. And fourthly, because in proportion as young persons deviate from the plainness and simplicity of the apparel as worn by the society, they approach in appearance to the world ; they mix with it, and im- bibe its spirit and admit its customs, and come into a situation which subjects them to be disowned. And this is so generally true, that of those persons, whom the society has been obliged to disown, the commencement of a long progress in irregularity may often be traced to a deviation from the simplicity of their dress. And here it may be observed, that an effect has been produced by this care concerning dress, so beneficial to the moral interests of the soci- ety, that they have found in it a new reason for new vigilance on this subject. The effect produced is a general similarity of outward appearance, in all the members, though there is a difference both in the form and colour of their clothing ; and this general appearance is such, as to make a Quaker still known to the world. The dress therefore of the Quakers, by distinguishing the members of the society, and making them known as such to the world, makes tho Vol. i. I, 1 266 PECULIAR CUSTOMS* world overseers as it were of their moral conduct. And that it operates in this way, or that it becomes a partial check in favour of morality, there can be no question, For a Quaker could not be seen either at public races, or at cock fightings, or at assemblies, or in public houses, but the fact would be noticed as singular, and probably soon known among his friends. His clothes would betray him. Neither could he, if at a great distance from home, and if quite out of the eye and observation of persons of the same religi- ous persuasion, do what many others do. For a Quaker knows, that many of the customs of the soci- ety are known to the world at large, and that a certain cond ct is expect d from a person in a Quakers habit. The fear therefore of being detected, and at any rate of bringing infamy on his cloth, if I may use the expression, would operate so as to keep him out of many of the vicious customs of the world. From hence it will be obvious that there cannot be any solid foundation for the charge, which has been made against the Quakers on the subject of dress. They are found in their present dress, not on the principle of an attachment to any particular form, or because any one form is more sacred than another, but on the principle, that an unreasonable. deviation from any simple and useful clothing is both censurable and hurtful, if made in conformity with PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 261 the fashions of the world. These two principles, though they may produce, if acted upon, a similai outward appearance in persons, are yet widely dis- tinct as to their foundation, from one another. The former is the p inciple of idolatry. The latter thai of religion. If therefore there are persons in the society, who adopt the former, they will come within the reach of the charge described. But the latter only can be adopted by true Quakers. 268 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. CHAP. II. Quakers are in the use of plain furniture — this usage founded on principles, similar to those on dress — this usage general — Quakers have seldom paintings, prints, or portraits in their houses, as articles of furniture — reasons for their disuse of such articles* As .S the Quakers are found in the use of garments, differing from those of others in their shape and fashi- on, and in the graveness of their colour, and in the general plainness of their appearance, so they are found in the use of pjain and frugal furniture in their houses. The custom of using plain furniture has not arisen from the circumstance, that any particular persons in the society, estimable for their lives and characters, have set the example in their families, but from the principles of the Quaker- constitution itself. It has arisen from principles similar to those, which dictated the continuance of the ancient Quaker-dress. The choice of furniture, like the choice of clothes, is left to be adjudged by the rules of decency and usefulness, but never by the suggestions of shew. The adop- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 2$9 tion of taste, instead of utility, in this case, would be considered as a conscious conformity with the fashi- ons of the world. Splendid furniture also would be considered as pernicious as splendid clothes. ( It would be classed with external ornaments, and would be reckoned equally productive of pride, with these. The. custom therefore of plainness in the articles of domestic use is pressed upon all Quakers : and that the subject may not be forgotten, it is incorporated in their religious discipline ; in consequence of which, it is held forth to their notice, in a public manner, in all the monthly and quarterly meetings of the kingdom, and in all the preparative meetings, at least once in the year. It may be admitted as a truth, that the society prac- tise, with few exceptions, what is considered to be the proper usage on such occasions. The poor, we know, cannot use any but homely furniture. The middle classes are universally in such habits. As to the rich, there is a difference in the practice of these. Some, and indeed many of them, use as plain and frugal furniture, as those in moderate circumstances. Others again step beyond the practice of the middle classes, and buy what is more costly, not with a view of shew, so much as to accommodate their furniture to the size and goodness of their houses. In the Uouses of others again, who have more than ordinary 270 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. intercourse with the world, we now and then see what is elegant, but seldom what would be considered to be extravagant furniture. We see no chairs with satin bottoms and gilded frames, no magnificent pier- glasses, no superb chandeliers, no curtains vv ith ex- travagant trimmings. At least, in ail my intercourse with the Quakers, I have never observed such things. If there are persons in the society, who use them, they must be few in number, and these must be con- scious that, by the introduction of such finery (k) into their houses, they are going against the advices annually given them in their meetings on this subject, and that they are therefore vdating the written law, as well as departing from the spirit of Quakerism. But if these or similar principles are adopted by the society on this subject, it must be obvious, that in walking through the rooms of the Quakers, we shall look in vain for some articles that are classed among the furniture of other people. We shall often be disappointed, for instance, if we expect to find either paintings or prints in frame. I seldom remember to have seen above three or four articles of this descrip- tion in all my intercourse with the Quakers. Some families had one of these, others a second, and others (b) Turkey carpets are in use, though generally gaudy, on account *f their weai'ing better than others. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 271 a third, but none had them all. And in many fami- lies neither the one nor the other was to be seen. One of the prints, to which I allude, contained a representation of the conclusion of the famous treaty between William Perm and the Indians of America. This transaction every body knows, afforded, in all its circumstances, a proof to the world, of the singu- la* honour and uprightness of those ancestors of the Quakers who were concerned in it. The Indians too entertained an opinion no less favourable of their character, for they handed down the memory of the event under such (/) impressive circumstances, that their descendants have a particular love for the cha- racter, and a particular reliance on the word, of a Quaker at the present day. The print alluded to was therefore probably hung up as the pleasing record of a transaction, so highly honourable to the principles of the society ; where knowledge took no advantage of ignorance, but where she associated herself with justice, that she might preserve the balance equal. *i This is the only treaty, says a celebrated writer, between the Indians and the Christians, that was never ratified by an oath, and was never broken." The second was a print of a slave-ship, published a few years ago, when the circumstances of the slave- (/) The Indians denominated Penn, brother Onas, which means m their language a pen, and respect the Quakers as his descendants. 272 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. trade became a subject of national inquiry. In this the oppressed Africans are represented, as stowed in different parts according to the number transported and to the scale of the dimensions of the vessel. This subject could not be indifferent to those, who had exerted themselves as a body for the annihilation of this inhuman traffic. The print, however, was not hung up by the Quakers, either as a monument of what they had done themselves, or as a stimulus to farther exertion on the same subject, but, I believe, from the pure motive of exciting benevolence ; of ex- citing the attention of those, who should come into their houses, to the case of the injured Africans, and of procuring sympathy in their favour. The third contained a plan of the building of Ack- worth- school. This was hung up as a descriptive ■view of a public seminary, instituted and kept up by the subscription and care of the society at large. But though all the prints, that have been mentioned, were hung up in frames on the motives severally assigned to them, no others were to be seen as their companions. It is in short not the practice (m) of the society to decorate their houses in this manner. (?n) There are still individual exceptions. Some Quakers have come accidentally into possession of printings and engravings in frame, which, being- innocent in their subject and their lesson, they wo«l have thought it superstitious to discard PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 273 prints in frames, if hung up promiscuously in a room, would be considered as ornamental furniture, or as furniture for shew. They would therefore come un- der the denomination of superfluities ; and the admis- sion of such, in the way that other people admit them would be considered as an adoption of the empty customs or fashions of the world. But though the Quakers are not in the practice of hanging up prints in frames, yet there are amateurs among them, who have a number and variety of prints in their possession. But these appear chiefly in collections, bound together in books, or preserv- ed in book covers, and not in frames as ornamental furniture for their rooms. These amateurs, however, are but few in number The Quakers have in gene- ral only a plain and useful education. They are not brought up to admire such things, and they have therefore in general but little taste for the fine and masterly productions of the painters' art. Neither would a person, in going through the houses of the Quakers, find any portraits either of them- selves, or of any of their families, or ancestors, except, in the latter case, they had been taken before they be- came Quakers. The first Quakers never had their portraits taken with their own knowledge and con- sent. Considering themselves as poor and helpless creatures, and little better than dust and ashes, they Vol. 1. Mm 2t4 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. had but a mean idea of their own images. They were of opinion also, that pride and self-conceit would be likely to arise to men from the view, and ostentatious parade, of their own persons. Thejf considered also, that X became them, as the founders of the society, to bear their testimony against the vain and superfluous fashions of the world. They believ* ed also, if there were those whom they loved, that the best method of shewing their regard to these would be not by having their fleshly images before their eyes, but by preserving their best actions in their thoughts, as worthy of imitation ; and that their own memory, in the same manner, should be perpetuated rather in the loving hearts, and kept alive in the edifying con- versation of their descendants, than in the perishing tablets of canvas, fixed upon the walls of their habi- tations. Hence no portraits are to be seen of many of those great and eminent men in the society, who are now mingled with the dust. These ideas, which thus actuated the first Quakers on this subject, are those of the Quakers as a body at the present day. There may be here and there an in- dividual, who has had a portrait of some of his family taken. But such instances may be considered as rare exceptions from the general rule. In no society is it possible to establish maxims, which shall influence ar universal practice. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. m CHAP. Ill SECT. I. language — Quakers differ in their language from others — the first alteration made by George Fox of thou for you — this change had been suggested by Erasmus and Luther — sufferings of the Quakers in consequence of adopting this change — a work publish- ed in their defence- -this presented to King Charles and others — other works on the subject by Barclay and Penn — in these the ivord thou shewn to be pro- per in all languages — you to be a mark of flattery — the latter idea corroborated by Howell, Maresius, Godeau, Erasmus. jljlS the Quakers are d'stinguishable from their fel- low-citizens by their dress, as was amply shewn in a former chapter, so they are no less distinguishable from them by the peculiarities of their language. George Fox seemed to look at every custom witlj the eye of a reformer. The language of the country, as used in his own times, struck him as having many censurable defects. Many of the expressions, then in use, appeared to him to contain gross flattery, others to be idolatrous, others to be false representatives of 276 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. the ideas they were intended to convey. Now he considered that Christianity required truth, and he be- lieved therefore that he and his followers, who profes- sed to be christians in word and deed, and to follow the christian pattern in all things, as far as it could be found, were called upon to depart from all the censur- able modes of speech, as much as they were from any of the customs of the world, which Christianity had deemed objectionable. And so weightily did these improprieties in his own language lie upon his mind, that he conceived himself to have had an especial com- mission to correct them. The first alteration, which he adopted, was in the use of the pronoun thou. The pronoun you, which grammarians had fixed to be of the plural number, was then occasionally used, but less than it is now, in ad- dressing an individual. George Fox therefore adopt- ed thou in its place on this occasion, leaving the word you to be used only where two or more individuals were addressed. George Fox however was not the first of the reli- gious writers, who had noticed the improper use of the pronoun you. Erasmus employed a treatise in shewing the propriety of thou when addressed to a single person, and in ridiculing the use of you on the same occasion. Martin Luther also took great pains to expunge the word you from the station PECULIAR CUSTOMS. S7T which it occupied, and to put thou in its place. In his Ludus, he ridicules the use of the former by the following invented sentence, " Magister, Vosestis iratus? This is as absurd, as if he had said in Eng- lish " gentlemen art thou angry"? But though George Fox was not the first to recom- mend the substitution of thou for you, he was the first to reduce this amended use of it to practice. This he did in his own person, wherever he wen*, and in all the works which he published. All his followers did the same. And, from his time to the present, the pronoun thou has come down so prominent in the speech of the society, that a Quaker is generally known by it at the present day. The reader would hardly believe, if historical facts did not prove it, how much noise the introduction or rather the amended use of this little particle, as re- duced to practice by George Fox, made in the world, and how much ill usage it occasioned the early Quakers. Many magistrates, before whom they were carried in the early times of their institution occasioned their sufferings to be greater merely on this account. They were often abused and beaten by others, and sometimes put in danger of their lives. It was a common question put to a Quaker in those days, who addressed a great man in this new and simple manner," " why you ill bred clown do you 278 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. thou me?" The rich and mighty of those times thought themselves degraded by this mode of address, as reducing them from a plural magnitude to a sin- gular, or individual, or simple station in life. " The use of thou, says George Fox, was a sore cut to proud flesh, and those who sought self-honour." George Fox, finding that both he and his followers were thus subject to much persecution on this ac- count, thought it right the world should know, that, in using this little particle which had given so much offence, the Quakers were only doing what every grammarian ought to do, if he followed his own rules. Accordingly a Quaker- work was produced, which was written to shew that in all languages thou was the proper and usual form of speech to a single person, and you to more than one. This was exemplified by instances, taken out of the scriptures, and out of books of teaching in about thirty languages. Two Quakers of the names of John Stubbs and Benjamin Furley, took great pains in compiling it : and some additions were made to it by George Fox himself, who was then a prisoner in Lancaster castle. This work, as soon as it was published, was present- ed to King Charles the second, and to his council. Copies of it were also sent to the Archbishop of Can- terbury, the Bishop of London, and to each of the universities. The King delivered his sentiments up- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 270 jtm it so far as to say, that thou was undoubtedly the proper language of all nations. The Archbishop of Canterbury, when he was asked what he thought of it, is described to have been so much at a stand, that he could not tell what to say. The book was af er- wards bought by many. It is said to have spread con- viction, wherever it went. Hence it had the effect of lessening the prejudices of some, so that the Quakers were never afterwards treated, on this account, in the same rugged manner as they had been before. But though this book procured the Quakers an amelioration of treatment on the amended use of the expression thou, there were individuals in the society, who thought they ought to put their defence on a bet- ter foundation, by stating all the reasons, for there were many besides those in this book, which had in- duced them to differ from their fellow citizens on this subject. This was done both by Robert Barclay and William Penn in works, which defended other princi- ples of the Quakers, and other peculiarities in their language. One of the arguments, by which the use of the pronoun thou was defended, was the same as that, on which it had been defended by Stubbs and Furley, that is, its strict conformity with grammar. The translators of the Bible had invariably used it. v The liturgy had been compiled on the same principle. All 230 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. addresses made by English Christians in their private prayers to the Supreme Being, we, e made in the lan- guage of thou, and not of you. And this was done, because the rules of the English grammar warranted the expression, and because any other mode of ex- pression would have been a violation of these rules. But the great argument (to omit all others) which Penn a; id Barclay insisted upon for the change of } ou, was that the pronoun thou, in addressing an ind vidual, had been anciently in use, but that it had been desert- ed for you for no other purpose, than that of flattery to men ; an that his dereliction of it was growing, greater and greater, upon the same principle, in their own times. Hence as christians, who were not to puff up the fleshly creature, it became them to return to the ancient and grammatical use of the pronoun thou, and to reject this growing fashion of the world. "The word you, says William Penn, was first ascribed in the way of flattery, to proud Popes and Emperors, imitating the heathens vain homage to their gods, thereby ascribing a plural honour to a si gle person ; as if one Pope had been made up of man}- god;-, and one Emperor of man}' men ; for which reason you, only to be addressed to many, became first spoken to one. It seemed the word thou looked like too lean and thin a respect; and therefore seme, bigger than they should be, would have a style suitable to their own ambition." PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 281 It will be difficult for those, who now use the word you constantly to a single person, and who, in such use of it, never attach any idea of flattery to it, to conceive how it ever could have had the origin ascribed to it, or, what is more extraordinary, how men could believe themselves to be exalted, when others applied to them the word you instead of thou. But history affords abundant evidence of the fact. It is well known that Caligula ordered himself to be-worshipped as a god. Domitian, after him, gave similar orders with respect to himself. In process of time the very statues of the emperors began to be worshipped. One blasphemous innovation prepared the way for another. The title of Pontifex Maximus gave way at length for those of Eternity, Divinity, and the like. Coeval with these appellations was the change of the word thou for you, and upon the same principles. These changes, however, were not so disagreeable, as they might be expected to have been, to the proud Romans ; for while they gratified the pride of their em. erors by these appellations, they made their despotism, in their own conceit, more tolerable to themselves. That one man should be lord ever many thousand Romans, who were the masters of the world was in itself a degrading thought. But they consoled themselves by the haughty consideration, that they were yielding obedience, not to man, but Vol. t. N n 282 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. to an incarnate demon or good genius, or especial envoy from heaven. They considered also the em- peror as an office, and as an office, includii.g and representing many other offices, and hence consider- ing him as a man in the plural number, they had less objection to address him in a plural manner. The Qu kers, in behalf of their assertions on this Subject, quote the opinions of several learned men, and of those in particular, who, from the nature of their respective writings, had occasion to look into the origin and construction of the words and expres- sions of language. Howell, in his epistle to the nobility of England before his French and English Dictionary, takes notice, " that both in France, and in other nations, the word thou was used in speaking of one, but by succession of time, when the Roman commonwealth grew into an empire, the courtiers began to magnify the emperor, as being furnished with power to con- fer dignities and offices, using the word you, yea, and deifying him with more remarkable titles, con- cerning which matter we read in the epistles of Sym- machus to the emperors Theodosius and Valentinian, where he useth these forms of speaking, " Vestra JEternitas, vestrum numen, vestra serenitas, vestra Clementia, that is, your, and not thy eternity, god- head, serenity, clemency. So that the word you ift PECULIAR CUSTOMS.' 280 the plural number, together with the other titles and comprllations of honour, seem to have taken their rise from despotic government, which afterwards, by degrees, came to be derived to p ivate persons." He says also in his History of France, that u in an- cient times, the peasants addressed their kings by the appellation of thou, but that pride and flattery first put inferiors upon paying a plural respect to the single person of every superior, and superiors upon receiving it. John Maresius, of the French Academy, in the preface to his Clovis, speaks much to the same effect. " Let none wonder, says he, that the word thou is used in this work to princes and princesses, for we use the same to God, and of old the same was used to Alexanders, Cassars, queers, and em- presses. The use of the word you, when only one person is spoken to, was only introduced by these base flatteries of men of later ag s, to whom it seemed good to use the plural number to one person, that he may imagine himself alone to be equal to many others in dignity and worth, from whence it came at last to persons of lower quality." Godeau, in his preface to the translation of the New- Testament, makes an apology for differing from the customs of the times in the use oi thou, and intimates that you was substituted for it, as a word of superior Sfl* PECULIAR CUSTOMS. respect. " I had rather, says he, faithfully keep to the express words of Paul, than exactly follow the po* lished style of our tongue. Therefore I always use that form of calling God in the singular number not in the plural, and therefore I say rather thou than you. I confess indeed, that the civility and custom of this word, requires him to be honored after that manner. But it is likewise on the contrary true, that the origi- nal tongue of the New Testament hath nothing com- mon with such manners and civility, so that not one of these many old versions we have doth observe it. Let not men believe, that we give not respect enough to God, in that we call him by the word thou, which is nevertheless far otherwise. For I seem to myself (may be by the effect of custom) more to honor his divine majesty, in calling him after this manner, than if I should call him after the manner of men, who are so delicate in their forms of speech." Erasmus also in the treatise, which he wrote on the impropriety of substituting you for thou, when a per- son addresses an individual, states that this strange substitution originated wholly in the flattery of men. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 2*5 SECT. IE Other alterations in the language of the Quakers — they address one another by the title of friends — ana others by the title of friends and neigbours, or by their common names — the use of sir and madam abo- lished —also of master or mister — and of hunyble servant — also of titles of honor — reasons of this abo- lition — example of Jesus Christ. XJlNOTHER alteration, that took place in the lan- guage of the Quakers, was the expunging of all ex- pressions from their vocabulary, which were either superfluous, or of the same flattering tendency as the former. In addressing one another, either personally or by letter, they made use of the word friend, to signify the bond of their own union, and the character, which man, under the christian dispensation, was bound to exhibit in his dealings with his fellow-man. They addressed each other also, and spoke of each other, by their real names. If a man's name was John, they called him John ; they talked to him as John, and add- ed only his sir- name to distinguish him from others. 286 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. In their intercourse \a ith the v\ orld they adopted the. same mode of speech : for they addressed individuals either by their plain names, or they made use of the appellations of friends or neighbours. They rejected the words sir or madam, as then in use. This they did, because they considered them like the word you, as remnants of ancient flattery, derived from the papal and anti-christian ages ; and because these words still continued to be considered as titles oi flattery, that puffed up people in their own times. Howell, who was before quoted on the pro- noun thou, is usually quoted by the Quakers on this occasion also. He states in his history, that " sir and madam were originally names given to none, but the king, his brother, and their wives, both in France and England. Yet now the ploughman in France is called sir and his wife madam ; and men of ordinary trades in England sir, and their wives dame, which is the legal title of a lady, and is the same as madam in French. So prevalent hath pride and flattery been in all ages, the one to give, and the other to receive respect." The Quakers banished also the word master, or mister as it is now pronounced, from their language, either when they spoke concerning any one, or ad- dressed any one by letter. To have used the word master to a person, who was no master over them, would have been, they considered, to have indicated PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 287 a needless servility, and to have given a false picture of the r own situation, as well as of those addressed. Upon the same or similar principles they hesitated to subscribe themselves as the humble or obedient servants of any one, as is now usual, at the bottom of their letters. " Horrid apostacy, says Barclay, for it is notorious that the use of these compliments im- plies not any design of service." This expression in particular they reprobated for another reason. It was one of those, which had followed the last degree of impious services and expressions, w hich had poured in after the statues of the emperors had been worship- ped, after the titles of eternity and divinity had been ushered in, and after thou had been exchanged for you, and it had taken a certain station, and flourished among these. Good christ ans, however, had endea- voured to keep themselves clear of such inconsisten- cies Casaubon has preserved a letter of Paulinus, Bishop of Nola, in which he rebukes Sulpicius Severus for having subscribed himself " his humble servant." A part of the lette; runs thus, {n) " Take heed (n) Paulinus flourished in the year 460. He is reported by Paulas Diacenus to have been an exemplary christian. Among other acts lie is stated to have expended all his revenues in the redemption of chris- tian captives ; and, at last, when he had nothing 1 left in his purse, to have pawned lus own person in favour of a widow s son. The barbari- ans, says the same author, struck with this act of unparralleled devo- tion to the cause of the unfortunate, released bim, and many prisoners with lum without rajisom, 283 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. hereafter, how thou, being from a servant called unto liberty, dost subscribe thyself servant to one, who is thy brother and fellow servant : f r it is a sinful flattery, not a testament of humility, to pay those honours to a man and to a sinner, which are due to the one Lord, one Master, and one God." The Quakers also banished from the use of their society all those modes of expression, which were considered as marks or designations of honour among men. Hence, in addressing any peer of the realm, they never used the common formula of " my lord,'" for though the peer in question might justly be the lord over many possessions, and tenants, and servants, yet he was no lord over their heritages or persons, Neither did they ever use the terms excellency, or grace, or honour, upon similar occasions. They con- sidered that the bestowing of these titles might bring them under the necessity of uttering what m ght be occasionally false. " For the persons, says Barclay, obtaining these titles, either by election or hereditarily, may frequently be found to have nothing really in them deserving them, or answering to them, as some, to whom it is said " your excellency may have noth- ing of excellency in them, and he, who is called your grace, may be an enemy to grace, and he, who is called your honour, may be base and ignoble." They considered also, that they might be setting up PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 284 the creature, by giving him the titles of the creator, so that he might think more highly of himself than he ought, and more degradingly than he ought, of the rest of the human race. But, independently of these moral considerations* they rejected these titles, because they believed, that Jesus Christ had set them an example by his own declarations and conduct on a certain occasion. When a person addressed him by the name of good master, he was rebuked as having done an impro- per thing, (o) " Why, says our Saviour, callest thou me good ? There is none good but one, that is God." This censure they believe to have been passed upon him, because Jesus Christ knew, that when he addressed him by this title, he addressed him, not in his divine nature or capacity, but only as a man. But Jesus Christ not only refused to receive such titles of distinction himself in his human nature, but on another occasion exhorted his followers to shun them also. They were not to be like the Scribes and Pharisees, who wished for high and eminent distinctions, that is, to be called Rabbi Rabbi of men j but says he, " be (p) ye not called Rabbi, for one (o) Matt. xix. 17- (p) Matt, xxjju. 8. Vol. 1. O o 290 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. is your master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren ;** and he makes the desire which lie discovered in the Jews, of seeking alter worldly instead of heavenly honours, to be one cause of their infidelity towards Christ, (q) for that such could not believe, as received honour from one another, and sought not the honour, which cometh from God only ; that is, that those persons, who courted earthly honours, could not have that humility of mind, that spirit that was to be of no reputation in the world, which was essential to those, who wished to became the followers of Christ. These considerations, both those of a moral nature, and those of the example of Je^us Christ, weighed so much with the early Quakers, that they made no exceptions even in favour of those of royal dignity, or of the rulers of their own land. George Fox wrote several letters to great men. He wrote twice to the king of Poland, three or four times to Oli- ver Cromwell, and several times to Charles the second ; but he addressed them in no other manner than by their plain names, or by simple titles, expres- sive of their situations as rulers or kings, (r) (7) John. v. 44. (r) The Quakers never refuse the legal titles in the superscription or direction of their letters. They would direct to the king, as king : to a peer according to his rank, either as a duke, marquis, earl, viscount, or baron : to a clergyman, not as reverend, but as cltrk PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 291 These several alterations, which took place in the language of the early Quak- rs, were adopted by their several successors, and are in force in the society at the present day. SECT. III. Other alterations in the language — the names of the days and montlis altered — reasons for this change — the word saint disused — various new phrases intro- duced. XXNOTHER alteration, which took place in the language of the Quakers was the disuse of the com- mon names of the days of the week, and of those of the months of the year. The names of the days were considered to be of heathen origin. Sunday had been so called by the Saxons, because it was the day, on which they sa- crificed to the sun. Monday on which they sacrificed to the moon. Tuesday to the god Tuisco. Wed- nesday to the god Woden. Thursday to the god Thor, and so on. Now when the Quakers consider- 292 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. ed that Jehovah had forbidden the Israelites to make mention even of the names of other gods, they thought it inconsistent in christians to continue to use the names of heathen idols for the common divisions of their time, so that these names must be almost always in their mouths. They thought too, that they were paying a homage, in continuing the use of them, that bordered on idolatry. They consider- ed also as neither Monday, nor Tuesday, nor any- other of these days, were days, in which these sacri- fices were now offered, they were using words, which conveyed false notions of things. Hence they deter- mined upon the disuse of these words, and to put other names in their stead. The numerical way of naming the days seemed to them to be the most rational, and the most innocent. They called therefore Sunday the first day, Monday the second, Tuesday the third, and so on to Saturday, which was of course the seventh. They used no other names but these, either in their conversation, or in their letters. Upon the same principles they altered the names of the months also. These, such as March and June, which had been so named by the ancient Ro- mans, because they were sacred to Mars and Juno, were exploded, because they seemed in the use of them to be expressive of a kind of idolatrous homage. Others again were exploded, because they were not PECULIAR CUSTOMS, 2*93 the representatives of the truth. September, for ex- ample, means the (s) seventh month from the storms. It took this seventh station in the kalendar of Ro- mulus, and it designated there its own station as well as the reason of its name. But when it (t) lost its place in the kalendar by the alteration of the style in England, it lost its meaning. It became no re- presentative of its station, nor any representative of the truth. For it still continues to signify the seventh month, whereas it is made to represent, or to stand in the place of, the ninth. The Quakers therefore banished from their language the ancient names of the months, and as they thought they could not do better than they had done in the case of the dayso they placed numerical in their stead. They called January the first month, February the second, March the third, and so on to December, which they called the twelfth. Thus the Quaker kalendar was made up by numerical distinctions, which have continued to the present day. (s) Septem ab imbribus. (t) This was in the year 1752, prior to this time the year began o,n the 25th of March ; and therefore September stood in the English as in the Roman kalendar. The early Quakers, however, as we find by a minute in 1697, had then made these alterations ; but when the new Style was introduced, they published their reasons for having done so. 294 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. Another alteration, which took place very general- ly in the language of the Quakers, was the rejection of the word saint, when they spoke either of the apos- tles, or of the primitive fathers. The papal autho- rity had canonized these. This they considered to be an act of idolatry, and they thought they should be giving a sanction to superstition, if they continued the use of such a title, either in their speech or writ- ings. After this various other alterations took place according as individuals among them thought it right to expunge old expressions, and to substitute new ; and these alterations were adopted by the rest, as they had an opinion of those who used them, or as they felt the propriety of doing it. Hence new phrases- came Into use, different from those which were used by the world on the same occasions ; and these were gradually spread, till they became incorporated into the language of the society. Of these the following examples may suffice. It is not usual with Quakers to use the words lucky or fortunate, in the way in which many others do. If a Quaker had been out on a journey, and had ex- perienced a number of fine days, he would never say that he had been lucky in his weather. In the same manner if a Quaker had recovered from an indisposi- tion, he would never say, in speaking of the circum- stance, that he had fortunately recovered, but he PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 295 would say, that he had recovered, and " that it was a favour." Luck, chance, or fortune, are allowed by the Quakers to have no power in the settlement of human affairs. It is not usual with Quakers to beg ten thousand pardons, as some of the world do, for any little mis- take. A Quaker generally on such an occasion asks a persons excuse. The Quakers never make use of the expression " christian name." This name is called christian by the world, because it is the name given to children in baptism, or in other words, when they are christen- ed, or when they are initiated as christians. But the Quakers are never baptised. They have no belief that water-baptism can make a christian, or that it is any true mark of membership with the christian church. Hence a man's christian name is called by them his first name, because it is the first of the two, or of any other number of names, that may belong to him. The Quakers, on meeting a person, never say " good morrow," because all days are equally good. Nor in parting with a person at night, do they say ' good evening," for a similar reason, but they make use of the expression of " farewell." I might proceed, till I made a little vocabulary of Quaker-expressions ; but this is not necessary, and it is not at all consistent with my design. I shall there- 396 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. fore only observe, that it is expected of Quakers, that they should use the language of the society ; that they should substitute thou for you ; that they should dis- card all flattering titles and expressions ; and that they should adopt the numerical, instead of the heathan names, of the days and months. George Fox gave the example himself in all these instances. Those of the society, who depart from this usage, are said by the Quakers to depart from " the plain language." SECT. IV. Great objections by the world against the preceding al- terations by the Quakers — -first against the use of thou for you — you said to be no longer a mark of jiattery — the use of it is said to be connected often with false Grammar — Custom said to give it, like a noun of number, a singular as well as plural Meaning — Consideration of these objections. X HERE will be no difficulty in imagining, if the Quakers have found fault with the words and expres- sions adopted by others, and these the great major- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 297 ity of the world, that the world will scrutinize, and find fault with, those of the Quakers in re- turn. This in fact has turned out to be the case. — And I know of no subject, except that of dress, where the world have been more lavish of their cen- sures, than in that before us. When the Quakers first appeared as a religious community, many objections were thrown out against the peculiarities of their language. These were noticed by Robert Barclay and William Penn. But, since that time, other objections have been start- ed. But as these have not been published (for they remain where they have usually been, in the mouths of living persons) Quaker writers have not felt tl em- selves called upon to attempt to answer them. These objections, however, of both descriptions, I shall notice in the present place. As the change of the pronoun thou for you was the first article, that I brought forward on the subject of the language of the Quakers, I shall begin with the objections, that are usually started against it. " Singularity, it is said, should always be avoided, if it can be done with a clear conscience. The Qua- kers might have had honest scruples against you for thou, when you was a mark of flattery. But they can have no reasoxiable scruples now, and therefore they should cease to be singular, for the word you is Vol. 1. p p 296 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. clearly no mark of flattery at the present day. How- ever improper it might once have been, it is now an innocent synonime." " The use again of the word thou for you, as in- sisted upon by the Quakers, leads them frequently into false grammar. " Thee knowest," and terms like these, are not unusual in Quaker mouths. Now the Quakers, though they defended the word thou for you on the notion, that they ought not to accustom their lips to flattery, defended it also strenuously on the notion, that they were strictly adhering to gram- mar-rules. But all such terms as " thee knowest,'* and others of a similar kind, must recoil upon them- selves as incorrect, and as censurable, even upon their own ground." " The word you again may be considered as a sin- gular, as well as a plural expression. The world use it in this manner. And who are the makers of lan- guage, but the world ? Words change their meaning, as the leaves their colour in autumn. And custom has always been found powerful enough to give au- thority for a change." With respect to these objections, it may be observ- ed, that the word you has certainly so far lost its mean- ing, as to be no longer a mark of flattery. The Qua- kers alio are occasionally found in the use of the un- grammatical expressions, that have been brought PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 2.99 against them. And unquestionably, except they mean to give up the grammatical part of vhe defence by Penn and Barclay, these ought to be done away. That you, however, is of the singular number, is not quite so clear. For while thou is used in the singu- lar number in the Bible, and in the liturgy, and in the prayers of individuals, and while it is the language, as it is, of a great portion of the inhabitants of the northern part of the kingdom, it will be a standing monument against the usurpation and mutilated do» minion of you. 300 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. SECT. V. Secondly against the words friend and neighbour, as used by the Quakers — Quakers also said to be wrong in their disuse of titles — for the use of these is sanctioned by St. Luke and St. Paul— answer of Barclay to the latter assertion — this answer not generally deemed satisfactory — observations upon the subject in dispute. X HE subject, that comes next in order, will be that of the objections, that are usually made against cer- tain terms used by the Quakers, and .-gainst their disuse of titles of honour, as sanctioned by the world. On the use of the words " friend, and neighbour," it is usually observed, that these are too limitted in their meaning, to be always, if used promiscuously, representatives of the truth. If the Quakers are so nice, that they will use no expression, that is not pre- cisely true, they should invent additional terms, which should express the relative condition of those, with whom they converse. The word " friend" denotes esteem, and the word " neighbour" proximity of PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 501 dwelling. But all the persons, to whom the Quakers address themselves, are not persons, whom they love and respect, or who are the inhabitants of the same neighbourhood with themselves. There is, it is said, as much untruth in calling a man friend, or neighbour, who is not so, as excellency, in whom there may be nothing that is excellent. The Quakers, in reply to this, would observe, that they use the word friend, as significative of their own union, and, when they speak to others, as significative of their christian relation to one another. In the same sense they use the word neighbour. Jesus Christ, when the lawyer asked him who was his neighbour, gave him a short (u) history of the Samaritan, who fell among thieves ; from which he suggested an in- ference, that the term neighbour' was not confined to those, who lived near one another, or belonged to the same sect, but that it might extend to those, who lived at a distance, and to the Samaritan equally with the Jew. In the same manner he considered all men as (v) brethren. That is, they were thus script urally related to one another. Another objection which has been raised against the Quakers on this part of the subject, is levelled (a) Luke x. 29. (w) Matt, xxlii. 8. 303 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. against their disuse of the titles of honour of the world. St Luke, it has been said, makes use of the terms most excellent, when he addresses Theophilus, and St. Paul of the words most noble, when he addresses Festus. Now the teachers and promulgators of Chris- tianity would never have given these titles, if they had not been allowable by the gospel. As this last argument was used in the time of Bar- clay, he has noticed it in his celebrated apology. — " Since Luke, says he, wrote by the dictates of the infallible spirit of God, I think it will not be doubted but Theophilus did deserve it, as being really endued with that virtue ; in which case we shall not condemn those, who do it by the same rule. But it is not prov- ed, that Luke gave Theophilus this title, as that which was inherent to him, either by his father, or by any patent Theophilus had obtained from any of the princes of the earth, or that he would have given it to him, in ease he had not been truly excellent ; and without this be proved, which never can, there can nothing hence be deduced against us. The like may be said of that of Paul to Festus, whom he would not have called such, if he had not been truly noble ; as indeed he was, in that he suffered him to be heard in his own cause, and would not give way to the fury of the Jews against him. It was not because of any outward title bestowed upon Festus, that he so called him, else PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 303 he would have given the same compellation to his pre- decessor Felix, who had the same office, but being a covetous man we find he gives him no such title." This is the answer of Barclay. It has not however been deemed quite satisfactory by the world. It has been observed that one good action will never give a man a right to a general title. This is undoubtedly an observation of some weight. But it must be contended on the other hand, that both Luke and Paul must have been apprised that the religion, they were so strenuous in propagating, required every man to speak the truth. They must have been apprised also, that it inculcated humility of mind. And it is probable therefore that they would never have bestowed titles upon men, which should have been false in their application, or productive of vanity and pride. St. Luke could not be otherwise than aware of the answer of Jesus Christ, when he rebuked the person for giving him the title of good, because he was one of the evangelists, who (w) recorded it, and St. Paul could not have been otherwise than aware of it also, on account of his inti- macy with St. Luke, as well as from other causes. Neither has this answer been considered as satisfac- tory for another reason. It has been presumed that the expressions of excellent and of noble were established £tles ©f rank, and if an evangelist and an apostle used fw) Luke xviii, JR 304 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. them, they could not be objectionable if used by others. But let us admit for a moment, that they were titles of rank. How happens it'that St. Paul, when he was before Festus, and not in a judicial capacity (for he had been reserved foi Caesar's tribunal) should have given him this epithet of noble ; and that, when summoned before Felix, and this in a judicial capacity, he should have omitted it? This application of it to the one and not to the other, either implies that it was no title, or, if it was a title as we have supposed, that St. Paul had some reason for this partial use of it. And in this case, no better reason can be given, than that sug- gested by Barclay. St. Paul knew that Festus had done his duty. He knew, on the other hand, the aban- doned character of Felix. The latter was then living, as Josephus relates, in open adultery with Brasilia, who had been married to Azis, and brought away from her husband by the help of Simon a Magician ; and this circumstance probably gave occasion to Paul to dwell upon temperance, or continence as the word might be rendered, among other subjects, when he made Felix tremble But, besides this, he must have known the general character of a man, of whom Tacitus com- plained, that " his government was distinguished by (.t) servility and every species of cruelty and lust." — (x) " Per omnem Szevitiam et Libidinem jus regium servili ingenis exercuit" PECULIAR CUSTOMS, 305 If therefore the epithet of noble was an established title Tor those Romans, who held the government of Judea, the giving of it to one, and the omission of it to the other, would probably shew the discrimination of St. Paul as a Christian, that he had no objection to give it, where it could be applied with truth, but that he re- fused it, where it was not applicable to the living character. But that the expression of excellent or of noble was any title at all, there is no evidence to shew. And first, let us examine the word, which was used upon this occasion. The {y) original Greek word has no meaning as a title in any Lexicon that I have seen. It relates both to personal and civil power, and in a secondary sense, to the strength and disposition of the mind. It occurs but in four places in the New- Testament. In two of these it is translated excellent and in the others noble. But Gilbert Wakefield, one of our best scholars has expunged the word noble, and substituted excellent throughout. Indeed of all the meanings of this word noble is the least proper. No judgment therefore can be pronounced in favour of a title by any analysis of the word. Let us now examine it as used by St. Luke. And here almost every consideration makes against it, as an established title. In the first place, the wisest com- Vol.. 1. Q^q 306 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. mentators do not know who Theophilus was. It has been supposed by many learned fathers, such as Epephanius, Salvian, and others, that St. Luke, in, addressing his gospel to Theophilus, addressed it as the words, " excellent Theophilus" import, to every " firm lover of God," or, if St. Luke uses the style of (z) Athanasius, to " every good christian." But on a supposition that Theophilus had been a living character, and a man in power, the use of the epithet is against it as a title of rank ; because St. Luke gives it to Theophilus in the beginning of his gos- pel, and does not give it to him, when he addresses him in the acts. If therefore he had addressed him in this manner, because excellent was his proper title, on one occasion, it would have been a kind of legal, and at any rate a disrespectful omission, not to have given it to htm on the other. With respect to the term noble as used by St. Paul to Festus, the sense of it must be determined by general as well as by particular considerations. There are two circum- stances, which at the first sight make in favour of it as a title, (a) Lysias addresses his letter to the " most excellent Felix," and the orator (b) Tertullus says, (z) fjMx.api& and are substituted by Athanasius for the word clu-istian. (a) Acts, xxiii, 26. (2>) Acts, xxiv. 3. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 30* *' we except it always and in all places most noble Fe- lix !" But there must be some drawback from the latter circumstance, as an argument of weight. There is reason to suppose that this expression was used by Tertullus, as a piece of flattery, to compass the death of Paul ; for it is of a piece with the ether expres- sions which he used, when he talked of the worthy- deeds done by the providence of so detestable a wretch as Felix. And it will always be an objection to no- ble as a legal title, that St. Paul gave it to one gover- nor, and omitted it to another, except he did it for the reasons, that have been before described. To this it may be added, that legal titles of eminence Were not then, as at this time of day, in use. Agrip- pa had no other, or at least Paul gave him no other title, than that of king. If Porcius Festus had been descended from a Patrician, or had had the statues of his ancestors, he might, on these accounts, be said to have been of a noble family. But we know, that nobody on this account, would have addressed him as noble in those days, either by speech or letter. The first Roman, who was ever honoured with a legal title, as a title of distinction, was Octavius, upon whom the senate, but a few years before the birth of Paul, had conferred the name of Augustus. But no procurator of a province took this title. Neither does it appear that this circumstance gave birth to 308 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. inferior titles to those in inferior offices in the govern- ment. And indeed on the title " Augustus" it may be observed, that though it followed the successors of Octavius, it was but sparingly used, being mostly used on medals, monumental pillars, and in public acts of the state. Pliny, in his letters to Trajan, though reputed an excellent prince, addressed him as only sir or master, and he wrote many years after the death of Paul. Athenagoras, in addressing his book, in times posterior to these, to the emperors M. Aurelius Antoninus, and L. Aurelius Commodus, addresses them only by the title of " great princes." In short titles were not in use. They did not creep in, so as to be commonly used, till after the statues of the emperors had begun to be worshipped by the military as a legal and accustomary homage. The terms " eternity and divinity" with others were then ushered in, but these were confined wholly to the emperors themselves. In the time of Constantine we find the tide of illustrious. This was given to those princes, who had distinguished themselves in war, but it was not continued to their descendants, In process of time, however, it becan e more com- mon, and the son of every prince began to be called illustrious. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 309 SECT. VI. Thirdly against the alteration of the names of the days and months — people, it is said do not necessarily pay homage to Idols, who continue in the use of the ancu ent names — if the Quaker principles also were gene- rally adopted on this subject, language would be thrown into confusion — Quakers also, by attempting to steer clear of Idolatry, fall into it — replies of the Quakers to these objections. X HE next objections for consideration, which are made against the language of the Quakers, are those which relate to their alteration of the names of the days and the months. These objections are com- monly made, when the language of the Quakers be- comes a subject of conversation with the world. " There is great absurdity, it is said, in supposing, that persons pay any respect to heathan idols, who retain the use of the ancient names of the divisions of time. How many thousands are there, who know nothing of their origin ? The common people of the country know none of the reasons, why the months and the days are called as they are. The middle 310 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. classes are mostly ignorant of the same. Those, who are well informed on the subject, never once think, when they mention the months and days, on the reason of the rise of their names. Ind"ed the al- most hourly use of those names secures the oblivion of their origin. Who, when he speaks of Wednesday and Thursday, thinks thac these were the days sacred to Woden and Thor ? but there can be no idolatry, where there is no intention to idolize." " Great weakness, it is said again, is manifested by the Qu akers, in quarrelling with a few words in the language, and in living at peace with others, which are equally objectionable. Every reason, it is said, must be a weak one, which is not universal. But if some of the reasons, given by the Quakers, were uni- versally applied, they would throw language into as much confusion as the builders of Babel. The word Smith for example, which is the common name of many families, ought to be objected to by this rule, if the person, to whom it belongs, happens to be a carpenter. And the word carpenter which is like- wise a family-name, ought to be objected to, if the person so called should happen to be a smith. And, in this case, men would be obliged to draw lots for numbers, and to be called by the numerical ticket, -which thev should draw.'' PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 311 , it is said, but a species of idolatry and a degrading superstition?" The Quakers would reply to these observations, first, that they do not charge others with idolatry, in the use of these names, who know nothing of tJieir origin, or who feel no impropriety in their use. Secondly, that if the principle, upon which they found their alterations in language, cannot, on account of existing circumstances, be followed in all cases, there is no reason, why it should not be followed, where it can. In the names of men it would be im- possible to adopt it. Old people are going off, and young people are coming up, and people of all des- criptions are themselves changing, and a change of names to suit every persons condition, and qiudifica tion, would be impossible. Cl2 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. Thirdly, that they pay no more homage or obeisance to words, than the obeisance of truth. There is al- ways a propriety in truth, and an impropriety in false- hood. And in proportion as the names of things ac- cord with their essences, qualities, properties, charac- ter, and the like, they are more or less proper. Sep- tember, for example, is not an appropriate name, if its meaning be enquired into, for the month which it represents : but the ninth month is, and the latter ap- appellation will stand the test of the strictest enquiry. They would say again that this, as well as the other alterations in their language has had a moral influence on the society, and has been productive of moral good. In the same manner as the dress, which they received from their ancestors has operated as a guardian, or preservative of virtue, so has the language which they received from them also. The language has made the world overseers of the conduct of the society. A Quaker is known by his language as much as by his dress. It operates, by discovering him, as a check upon his actions. It keeps him also, like the dress distinGt from others. And the Quakers believe, that they can never keep up their christian discipline, except they keep clear of the spirit of the world. Hence it has been considered as of great im- portance to keep up the plain language ; and this im- portance has been further manifested by circumstan- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 513 ces, that have taken place within the pale of the socie- ty. For in the same manner as those, who begin to depart from the simplicity of dress, are generally in the way to go off among the world, so are those who depart from the simplicity of the language. Each deviation is a sign of a temper for desertion. Each deviation brings them in appearance nearer to the world. But the nearer they resemble the world in this respect, the more they are found to mix with it. They are of course the more likely to be seduced from the wholesome prohibitions of the society. The language therefore of the Quakers has grown up in- sensibly as a wall of partition, whiqh could not now, it is contended, be taken away without endangering the innocence of their youth, Vol. i, R ^ 3U PECULIAR CUSTOMS. SECT. VII. Advantages and disadvantages of the system of the Quaker language — disadvantages are that it may lead to superstition — and hypocrisy — advantages are that it excludes flattery — is founded upon truth — promotes truth, and correctness in the expression of ideas — observation of Hobbes — would be the most perfect model for a universal calendar — the use or disuse of this system may either of them be made useful to morality. M4T X HAVE now given to the reader the objections, that are usually made to the alterations, which the Quakers have introduced into the language of the country, as well as the replies, which the Quakers would make to these objections. I shall solicit the continuance of his patience a little longer, or till I ha\ e nude a few remarks of my own upon this sub- ject. It certainly becomes people, who introduce great peculiarities into their system, to be careful, that they are well founded, and to consider how far they may bring their minds into bondage, or what moral PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 315 sftects they may produce on their character in a course of time. On the reformed language of the Quakers it may be observed, that both advantages and disadvantages may follow according to the due or undue estimation in which individuals may hold it. If individuals should lay too great a stress upon language, that is, if they should carry their prejudices so far against outward a d lifeless words, that they should not dare to pronounce them, and this as a matter of religion, they are certainly in the way of becoming superstitious, and of losing the dignified indepen- dence of their minds. If again they should put an undue estimate upon language, so as to consider it as a criterion of religi- ous purity, they may be encouraging the growth of hypocrisy within their own precincts. For if the use of this reformed language be considered as an essen- tial of religion, that is, if men are highly thought of in proportion as they conform to it rigidly, it may be a covering to many to neglect the weightier matters of righteousness ; at least the fulfilling of such minor duties may shield them from the suspicion of neglect- ing the greater : and if they should be reported as erring in the latter case, their crime would be less credited under their observance of these minutiae of the law. 316 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. These effects are likely to result to the society, if the peculiarities of their language be insisted on be- yond their due bounds. But, on the other hand, it must be confessed, that advantages are likely to fol- low from the same system, which are of great impor- tance in themselves, and which may be set off as a counterbalance to the disadvantages described. The Quakers may say, and this with the greatest truth, " we have never cringed or stooped below the dignity of men. We have never been guilty of base flattery ; we have never been instrumental in raising the creature, with whom we have conversed, above his condition, so that in the imagination of his own consequence, he should lose sight of his dependence on the Supreme Being, or treat his fellow-men, be- cause they should happen to be below him, as worms or reptiles of the earth." They may say also that the system of their lan- guage originated in the purest motives, and that it is founded on the sacred basis of truth. It may be said also, that the habits of caution which the different peculiarities in their language have intro- duced and interwoven into their constitution, have taught them particularly to respect the truth, and to aim at it in all their expressions whether in speech or letters, and that it has given them a peculiar correct- ness in the expression of their ideas, which they would PECULIAR CUSTOMS; 3 \f scarcely have had by means of the ordinary education of the world. Hobbes says (c) " animadverte, quaro sit ab improprietate verborum pronum hominibus prolabi in errores circa res," or " how prone men are to fall into errors about things, when they use impro- per expressions." The converse of this proposition may be observed to be true with respect to the Qua- kers, or it may be observed, that the study of proper expressions has given them correct conceptions of things, and has had an influence in favor of truth. There are no people, though the common notion may be otherwise, who speak so accurately as the Qua- kers, or whose letters, if examined on any subject, would be so free from any double meaning, so little liable to be mistaken, and so easy to be understood. It may be observed also on the language of the Quakers, that is, on that part of it, which relates to the alteration of the names of the months and days, that this alteration would form the nfcst perfect model for an universal calendar of any that has yet appeared in the world. The French nation chose to alter their calendar, and, to make it useful to husbandly, they designated their months, so that they should be repre- sentatives of the different seasons of the year. They called them snowy, and windy, and harvest, and vin- £c) Hobbeaii Exameiuet. Emend. Hod. Math. P. 55. Edit. Ametel. SI* PECULIAR CUSTOMS. tage-months, and the like. But in so large a territory, as that of France, these new designations v ere not the representatives of the truth. The nothern and southern parts were not alike in. their climate. Much less could these designations speak the truth for other parts of the world: whereas numerical appellations might be adopted with truth, and be attended v. ith usefulness to all the nations of the world, who div.ded their time in the same manner. On the latter subject of the names of the days and months, the alteration of which is considered as the most objectionable by the world, I shall only observe, that, if the Quakers have religious scruples concerning them, it is their duty to persevere in the disuse of them. Those of the world, on the other hand, v. ho have no such scruples, are under no obligation to follow their example. And in the same manner as the Quakers convert the disuse of these ancient terms to the improvement of their moral character, so those of the world may convert the use of them to a moral purpose. Man is a reasonable, and moral being, and capable of moral improvement ; and this improve- ment may be made to proceed from apparently worth- less causes. If we were to find crosses or other Roman-Catholic relics fixed in the walls of our places of worship, why should we displace them? Why should we not rather suffer them to remain, to put PECULIAR CUSTOMS. SI 9 us in mind of the necessity of thankfulness for the reformation in our religion ? If again we were to find an altar, which had been sacred to Moloc, but which had been turned into a stepping stone, to help the aged and infirm upon their horses, why should we destroy it ? Might it not be made useful to our morality, as far as it could be made to excite sorrow for the past and gratitude for the present ? And in the same manner might it not be ed fying to retain the use of the ancient names of the days and months ? Might not thankful feelings be excited in cur hearts, that the crime of idolatry had ceased among us, and that the only remnant of it was a useful signature of the times ? In fact, if it be the tendency of the corrupt part of our nature to render innocent things vicious, it is, on the other hand, in the essence of our nature, to render vicious things in process of time innocent ; so that the remnants of idolatry and superstition may be made subservient to the moral improvement of mankind. 320 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. CHAP. IV. Address — all nations have used ceremonies of address— * George Fox bears his testimony against those in use in his own times — sufferings of the Quakers on this account — makes no exception in favor of royalty — his dispute with Judge Glynn — modern Quakers follow his example — use no ceremonies even to majesty—- various reasons for their disuse of them. Ai LL nations have been in the habit of using out* ward gestures or ceremonies, as marks of affection, obeisance or respect. And these outward ceremo- nies have been different from one another, so much so, that those, which have been adjudged to be suita- ble emblems of certain affections or dispositions of the mind among one people, would have been consi- dered as very improper emblems of the same, and would have been even thought ridiculous by another, yet all nations have supposed, that they employed the most rational modes for these purposes. And indeed, there were probably none of these outward gestures and ceremonies, which, in their beginning, would not have admitted of a reasonable defence PECULIAR CUSTOMS* 82 1> While they continued to convey to the minds of those, who adopted them, the objects, for which they were intended, or while those, who used them, persevered .with sincerity in their use, little or no objection could be made to them by the moralist. But as soon as the ends of their institution were lost, or they were used without any appropriate feeling of the heart, they became empty civilities, and little better than mocke- ry or grimace. The customs of this sort, which obtained in the time of George Fox, were similar to those, which are now in use on similar occasions. People pulled off their hats, and bowed, and scraped with their feet. And these things they did, as marks of civility, friend- ship, or respect to one another. George Fox was greatly grieved about these idle cere- monies. He lamented that men should degrade them- selves by the use of them, and diat they should en- courage habits, that were abhorrent of the truth. His feelings were so strong upon this subject, that he felt himself called upon to bear his testimony against them. Accordingly he never submitted to them himself, and those, who received his religious doctrines, followed his example. The omission of these ceremonies, however, pro* cured both for him and his followers, as had been the case in the change of thou for you, much ill- will? Voi,. J. s a 322 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. and harsh treatment. The Quakers were derided and abused. Their hats were taken forcibly from then- heads, and thrown away. They were beaten and imprisoned on this sole account. And so far did the world carry their resentment towards them for the omission of these little ceremonies, that they re- fused for some time to deal with them as tradesmen, or to buy things at their shops, so that some Quakers could hardly get money enough to buy themselves bread. George Fox, however, and his associates, persever- ed, notwithstanding this ill usage, in the disuse of all honours, either by the moving of the hat, or the usual bendings of the body ; and as that, which was a right custom for one, was a right one for another, they made no exception even in favour of the chief magistrate of the land. George Fox, w hen he visited Oliver Cromwell as protector, never pulled off his hat; and it is remarkable that the protector was not angry with him for it. Neither did he pull off his hat to the judges at any time, notwithstanding he was so often brought before them. Controversies sometimes took place between him and them in the public court, upon these occasions, one of which I shall notice, as it marks the manner of conducting the jurisprudence of those times. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 322, When George Fox, and two other friends, were brought out of Launceston gaol, to be tried before judge Glynn, who was then chief justice of England, they came into court with their hats on. The judge asked them the reason of this, but they said nothing. He then told them, that the court commanded them to pull off their hats. Upon this George Fox address- ed them in the following manner. " Where, says he, did ever any magistrate, king or judge, from Mo- ses to Daniel, command any to put off their hats, when they came before them in their courts, either amongst the Jews, who were God's people, or among the heathen ? And if the law of England doth com- mand any such thing, shew me that law, either writ- ten or printed." Judge Glynn upon this grew angry, and replied, that " he did not carry his law-books upon his back." But says George Fox, " tell me where it is printed in any statute-book, that I may read it." The judge, in a vulgar manner, ordered him away, and he was accordingly taken away, and put among thieves. The judge, however, in a short time afterwards ordered him up again, and, on his return put to him the following question. " Come, says he, where had they hats from Moses to Daniel ? Come, answer me. I have you fast now." George Fox replied, that " he might read in the third chapter ©f Daniel, that the three children were cast into the SI4 PECULIAR CUSTOMS: fiery furnace by Nebuchadnezzar's command, with their coats, their hose, and their hats on." The re- petition of this apposite text stopped the judge frcm any farther comments on the custom, and he ordered him and his companions to be taken away again. And they were accordingly taken away and they v ere tbust again among thieves. In process of time, however, this custom of the Quakers began to be known among the judges, who so far respected their scruples, as to take care that their hats should be taken off in future in the courts. These omissions of the ceremonies of the world, as begun by the primitive Quakers, are continued by the modern. They neither bow nor scrape, nor pull off their hats to any, by way of civility or respect, and they carry their principles, like their predecessors, so far, that they observe none of these exterior parts of politeness even in the presence of royalty. The Quakers are in the habit on particular occasions of sending deputies to the king. And it is remarkable that his present majesty always sees them himself, if he be well, and not by proxy. Notwithstanding this, no one in the deputation ever pulls off his hat. Those, however, who are in waiting in the anti-cham- ber, knowing this custom of the Quakers, take their hats from their heads, before they enter the room, where the king is. On entering the room, they nei- PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 32* tlier bow nor scrape, nor kneel, and as this ceremony cannot be performed for them by others, they go into the royal presence in a less servile, or more dignified manner, than either the representatives of sovreigns, or those, who have humbled nations by the achieve- ment of great victories. The ground, upon which the Quakers decline the use of the ordinary ceremonies just mentioned, is, the honours are the honours of the world. Now, as that these of the world, they consider them as objec- tionable on several accounts. First, they are no more the criterions of obeisance and respec, than mourning garments are the criteri- ons of sorrow. But Christianity is never satisfied but with the truth. It forbids all false appearances. It allows no image to be held out, that is not a faith- ful picture of its original, or no action to be resorted to, that is not correspondent with the feelings of the heart. In the second place the Quakers presume, that, as honours of the world, all such ceremonies are generally of a complimentary nature. No one bows to a poor man. But almost every one to the rich, and the rich to one another. Hence bowing is as much a species of flattery through the medium of the body, as the giving of undeserved titles through the medium of the tongue. 325 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. As honours of the world again the Quakers think them censurable, because all such honours were censured by Jesus Christ. On the occasion, on which he exhorted his followers not to be like the Scribes and Pharisees, and to seek flattering titles, so as to be called Habbi Rdbbi of man, he exhorted them to avoid all ceremonious salutations, such as greetings in the market-places. He couples the two different customs of flattering titles and salutations in the same sentence, and mentions them in the same breath. And though the word " greetings" does not per- haps precisely mean those bowings and scrapings, which are used at the present day, yet it means, both according to its derivation and the nature of the Jewish customs, those outward personal actions or gestures, whieh were used as complimentary to the Jewish world. With respect to the pulling off the hat the Qua- kers have an additional objection to this custom, quite distinct from the objections, that have been mentioned above. Every minister in the Quaker society takes off his hat, either when he preaches, or when he prays. St. Paul (d) enjoins this custom. But if they take off their hats, that is, uncover their heads, as an outward act enjoined in the service of God, they cannot with any propriety take them off, or unco- ( it a vice of the present age as it has been of former ages ; and there seems to be little doubt, that in proportion as the custom of drinking healths and toasts, but more particularly the latter, is suppressed, this vice will become less a trait in the national char- acter. There are one or two customs of the Quakers, which I shall notice before I conclude this chapter. It is one of the fashions of the world, where people meet in company, for men and women, when the dinner is over, to drink their wine together, and for the women, having done this for a short time, to re- tire. This custom of the females withdrawing PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 361 dinner was probably first insisted upon from an idea, that their presence would be a restraint upon the cir- culation of the bottle, as well as upon the conversation of the men. The Quakers, however, seldom sub- mit to this practice. Men end women generally sit together and converse as before dinner. I do not mean by this that women may not retire if tliey please, because there i*> no restraint upon any one in the company of the Quakers; nor do I moan to that women do not occasionally retire, and leave the men at their wine. There are a few rich fan which, having mixed more dan usual with the world, allow of this separation. But where one al- lows it, there are ninety-. give wine to their company after dinner, who do not. It is not a Qua- ker-custom, that in a given time after dinner, the one shorn 1 d be separated from the other sex. It is a pity that the practice of the Quakers should not have been adopted by others of our own country in this particular. Mai.r advantages would result to those, who were to follow th example. For if v.o- me\ were allow cd to remain, chastity of expression and decojum of lxhaviour would be more likely to be insured. There presence also would operate as a check upon drunkenness. Nor can there be a doubt, that women would enliven and givr a vs 362 PECULIAR CUSTOMS. to conversation; and, as tiny i different education from nun, that an opportu i; ofth her. It is also usual with in such that the I known : Quak< rs, <-\« n tot U who It .- unusual w ith tl . if I i rmit. But even in d ■ th< . at the tabU , tl com than in d. . I !l< hi t<» 1 in a dd ke a ci The bottle, hov ever, i he g his plaas. A i little tinu , i \ third, ' taken what he ill. lows the example. The wine ta i taken away, and this i the hour < F drinking ti .1. V ither drunk an; m approach drunk< ni in the Quaker companies. 1 363 d by lb of the society. It is a su l ilit 'r queries. It is of course a sui n b ro u g h t to their rccoUectiotti | die fata of the Quakers, they nmH Ik- .. - * » : .*- DATE DUE MA^ ' 2 R ? nl 15 1Ylrv 'ft'R w tf 5 tl ;!h GAYLORD PRINTED IN USA A! COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 0038103656 ' o o TO o -0 ~»