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YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

THE

SOCIETY OF FRIENDS,

PEOPLE

COMMONLY CALLED

U A
EXAMINED.

BY JOHN BRISTED,
OF THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF THE IKNER TEMP1.E.

lonDtra:
PRINTED FOR J. MAWMAN IN THE POULTRY;
AND J. WHITE IN FLEET- STREET.

1805.
By T. GiHet, Salisbnry-sjjnare,

THE REVEREND
NATHANIEL BRISTED,
Vicar of Sherborne in Dorsetshire.

TO you, my dearest Father,
I dedicate this little Work, as the
only means now in my power of
evincing my most sincere and ardent
gratitude to him, who first instilled
into my infant mind the precepts of
pure religion, and the dictates of un-*
sophisticated morality. These pre-

iv

cepts and these dictates have, thro*
all my wanderings and all my aber-:
rations from that path, which both;
your doctrine and your conduct
pointed out to be the only road to
happiness, ever whispered in still
small accents, the voice of peace,
and of invitation to the scenes of
calmness and of tranquillity. If there
be any thing of benefit, any thing of
praise, any thing of good report in
the following pages, I owe it all to
the moral and religious instructions
which I received from you,, in the
days of my childhood; instructions
always conveyed in language of the

most affectionate tenderness, and cal
culated to win the heart to virtue,
and to prove how sweet are the
words of truth breathed from the lips
of love.
" The bridegroom may forget his bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen,
The monarch may forget his crown,
That on his head an hour has been;
The mother may forget her babe,
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, my sire,
And a' that thou hast done for me."
I am ever
Your most affectionate Son,
JOHN BRISTED.
INNER TEMPLE,
November 50th, 1804.

PREFACE.

TT might appear presumptuous in one
-*- who is not a member of the Society of
Friends, to offer to the Public an examina
tion of their tenets ; because he cannot be
supposed to be sufficiently acquainted with
the whole organization of their osconomy, to
be enabled to give a full and an accurate
statement of their polity. More particularly
hazardous must such an undertaking seem,
when it is remembered, that so manv excel-
lent books on this subject have already been
written by men of high ability, and of the
most exemplary character, among the Society
of the Friends themselves; in the foremost
rank of which stands Barclay's inestimable
a 4

via

Apology for the tenets of those who belong
to his religious persuasion.
Tq these formidable objections I have only
to answer, that I am prompted to undertake
this work solely by the respect and the vene
ration which I bear for the Society of Friends,
whose, system of polity only requires to be
thoroughly Jknowa and underitood, in order
to.be admired and imitated. -Surely no hu
man being, „ possessed • with a desire of im
provement, can behold the simplicity of man
ners, the external decency and decorum of
conduct, the abhorrence from all cruelty and
bloodshed, the honest and the upright deal
ing, the pure and the genuine religion of the
Friends, who worship their God in truth, in
singleness of heart, and in the Holy Spirit,
without exclaiming, with fervor and delight,
" Sees yonder sun from his meridian height,
A lovelier .scene than virtue thus inshrin'd
L On earth,.and man with man for mutual aid combin'd I"

IX

I must be indulged a few moments in the
exquisite gratification of giving my unequi
vocal and decided opinion of Barclay the apo
logist :— that he was an excellent man and a
good christian, I as firmly believe as I believe .
in the existence of my God, and in the re
demption of my Saviour ; that his book is an
invaluable present to mankind I am well as- .
sured, and feel and know to be true. His
volume contains so much of pure religion, of
sound, sterling morality, of unalloyed; unso- '
phisticated benevolence, of good, solid sense,
of clear and perspicuous reasoning, of good
ness andjtenderness of heart, of aversion from
all that may tend to ; pollute and debase the
soul, that he who reads and is not made bet
ter by the book, must be something more or
less than man.
I should indeed be sorry not to have it with
roe, as a companion, wherever I go, as a balm
to comfort my soul, and a cordial tp^strength-

fcn my drooping nature when I faint and am
in danger of sinking under the various temp
tations which rush in at every inlet of sense,
and threaten, by an impetuous and over-bear
ing tide, to sweep away the fabric of religion
and of morality, which it is, or ought to be,
the study of our lives to endeavour to rear and
to establish.
The praise of Barclay burns also with a
brighter blaze of splendour from the peculiar
circumstances of the age in which he lived ;
an age dark and barbarous in comparison with
that wherein we now run our race of exis
tence. When Charles the Second and his
satellites introduced such a baneful torrent of
profligacy and of atheism into this kingdom,
as threatened to deluge and to destroy all the
foundations of religion and of morality, it
surely required a greater portion of under
standing and of virtue than commonly falls
to the lot even of the most favoured children

XI
of the human race, to enable Barclay to stand
iike a wall of fire between his people and die
contaminations of the world, and, with a
steady and an outstretched arm, to ptev&it
those whom he wished to save from being
swallowed up in the vortex of dissipation and
of infidelity.
My earnest desire is, by pointing out the
peculiar excellencies of the religious, the mo
ral, and the political systems of the Friends,
to show that in some instances these" sys
tems may yet be amended and improved, to
add one more incitement to virtue and reli
gion, by holding up to imitation the conduct
of a Society, which has through a lapse of ages
erected and held aloft a standard of morality
higher than that which is reared amongst the
majority of the human race.
Whether or not I shall succeed in this the
fervent desire of my heart, time only, and the

xtt
event, can decide ; but, feven if I fail ih mjr
attempt, I shall experience the satisfaction of
knowing that I have endeavoured to discharge
that debt which I, in common with every
human being that breathes, owe to the age iri
which I live, namely, that of striving to aug
ment the mass of happiness floating in society*
by diffusing the precepts of truth, and by dis
seminating the dictates of religion*
, In the day of sorrow, and in the hour of
affliction/when disease, and anguish, and tri"
hulafion shall have worn doWn my wearied
frame to .the very dregs of vitality,, and to the
exhaustion of * animation, I will remember
that I have been permitted to make this at
tempt, and be thankful. I will think of this,
and: be comforted, even at the awful moment
of the separation of the soul from the body.
As my professional avocations engage by far
too great a portion of my time to permit me

X1U
to pay so much attention as my inclination
prompts me to pay to this very interesting
and important subject, I may very possibly be
mistaken in some of my positions, owing to a
deficiency in the number of my facts. Any
such mistakes I should esteem it a most parti
cular favour if some friend would correct and
amend, by pointing out to me. more accurate
and more ample sources of information than
those which Ihave hitherto been able' to trace.
I am the more emboldened to make this re
quest, because I am conscious of not having
wilfully perverted or distorted a singlef circum
stance to serve the petty purposes of prejudice,
or to detract ought from the respect and ve
neration so justly due to that Society, whose
system of ceconomy is examined in this
treatise. Supported by this consciousness, I venture
tp lay the following observations before the

Xiv
Public, whose opinion I shall await with
patience, and. to whose judgment I shall bow
in silence, for, from their ultimate decision*
there is no appeal to any higher tribunal.
Be the success of my attempt, however,:
what it may, of this I am well assured, that
the following pages will be written in a far
different spirit than that which has hitherto
guided my pen. That was, indeed, a spirit
full of the gall of bitterness, and the bond of
iniquity, the offspring of indiscretion and of
folly, too fatally exerted for the destruction of
my peace, and the annihilation of all my fond
est hope; a spirit, the effects of which have
planted a thorn in rny heart, that nought but
the hand of death can eradicate.
The hand of' Ismael was against every one
— and what was the consequence? — Even
this ; that the hand of ©very one was against
Ismael.

XV
He who, by word or deed, wounds the feel
ings of his fellow-creatures, makes one of the
most fatal errors, in his calculations upon life,
that folly can well commit ; for the dart of
agony which he had, either through malig
nity or through indiscretion, winged on its
way towards the bosom of others, comes back,
barbed anew, upon his own breast, and pierces
to the inmost recesses of his soul.
It is the sacred duty of every human being
to endeavour, as much as in him lies, to in
crease the virtue and the happiness of his fel
low-creatures : this end can be attained only
by benevolence. The happiness of man exists
wholly and entirely in the feelings of his heart;
if those are wounded, his misery must be the
consequence. What, then, shall we say to
him, who, led away by vain and fantastic no
tions of promoting general, universal good,
proceeds to effect his purpose, by lacerating
$nd mangling the heart-chords of every indi-

XVI

vidual so unfortunately circumstanced, as to
come within the sphere of his attraction; as,
if mankind were not made up of a multitude
of single beings, and as if the collective happi
ness of society at large did not consist of the
felicity of each individual of that society r
Neither will it avail ought for such a man
to say ; it is true, I have been mistaken ; but
what I did proceeded from the most upright
and the purest motives. To this I reply ; Sir,
whether or not your motives were pure and
upright I cannot tell, for that can only be
known to God and to your own heart ; but
this I know full well, that the effects of your
conduct have invariably been misery and vexa
tion to others, and remorse and anguish to
yourself. Sir, a man performs but hajf his
duty, when he is satisfied merely with the rec
titude of his intentions. It is incumbent on
every one, not only to be well assured that the;
motives of his actions are in themselves exalt-

xvii
ed and honourable, but also to calculate coolly
and correctly upon the consequences likely to
be produced upon himself as an individual, and
upon the community collectively, by such ac
tions, before he ventures to do a single deed of
life. 1 know not that there is much difference as
to the quantity of mischief produced, whether
a man acts from malignant motives,. or merely
from the blind impulse of heedless haste and
of infatuated indiscretion. A boy, full of de
lirious dreams of being able to banish vice from
the face of the earth, arms himself with a pen,
and sends forth the most virulent invectives
against every one whom, in the magnitude of
his wisdom, he fancies not to be strictly vir
tuous ; and when a little time has shewn him
that mankind do not choose to be dragooned
into virtue, are not willing to listen with com
placency to the unqualified abuse of one who
shews himself very unfit to be an instructor,
b

XVllt
by the violence of his passions, and the intem
perance of his language ; he is lost in astonish-*
ment, arid cries out — how can these things
be ? I am sure that I was actuated by a love
of virtue, and an abhorrence of vice, in all that
I did. To which I reply, that may very possibly
be ; but yet you have made many an amiable
and virtuous heart ache ; you have heaped a
weight of undeserved misery on many an up
right and excellent fellow-creature. Pray, are
all the great moral and physical laws of God
to be interrupted in their course r Is the great
chain of events that reaches through worlds
unnumbered, and ages without end, to be dis
rupted and broken ? Is the Almighty to work
a perpetual miracle, merely because a frail and
a feeble creature, as is man, has erred in his
calculation upon life ? Because you have mis
taken the way to happiness, and have satirized
and lashed a number of your fellow-creatures,

XIX
are all the effects, which uniformly follow
from given causes, to fail, and to be as nothing,
with regard to you alone of all the human race,
when they act with their usual efficacy in
every other instance ? Shall those whom you
have wounded entertain sentiments of love
and of affection towards you; or shall they
not fear and detest the disturber of their peace,
and the enemy of their repose ? Does the child
bless the assassin of his father ? Does the parent
cherish the sensations of delight at the men
tion of the name of him who guided the dag
ger of death into the heart of his child ?
I am very much inclined to doubt, if per
sonal satire ever produces ought but mischief.
Those who are immediately lashed, feel sen
sations in their bosoms very unlike the emo
tions of virtue, even the sensations of shame,
of anger, of wrath, of hatred, and of revenge.
Neither do they, who are not directly attack
ed, feel, I fear, the swelUng.and exulting throbs
b 2

XX

of benevolence and of compassion. Are not;
r
(the emotions of .contempt, of scorn, and' of
derision, raised in their minds, by beholding
the follies and the vices of their neighbours
clothed in the broad array of deformity, and
suspended on the gibbet of infamy ? The
•mode which our. blessed, Saviour pursued, in
order to lead men from the.error of their ways
to the wisdom oi the just, was full of benig
nity, and full of kindness ; he exasperated not
by ill-timed and unseasonable reproof, by sar
castic and unsparing ridicule ; his admonitions
were the admonitions of a tender and an in^
dulgent father, breathing the words of wisdom.
and of love,
-r But, however men may differ, in, opinion as.
to the propriety or the impropriety, of totally
abolishing all personal satire, as a weapon ready
to be used in the cause of vice rather than in
the service of virtue, in this point they must
all accprd ; namely, that if sajire be ever had

XXI

recourse to, it must be adorned with the fea»
tures of decency and of refined civility, on
every principle of justice and of policy. Coarse
and barbarous invective must defeat its own
end and aim; must rankle in the heart of
those attacked ; must fester and gangrene
the wound of vice, which it was meant to
heal ; must render even the virtuous part of
the community full of suspicion as to the
motives which actuate the conduct of the sa-
tyrist ; must have a tendency to proscribe him,
to close up all his avenues of access to society,
and thus to render him utterly unable, how
ever willing he may be, to promote the cause
of virtue, by annihilating his influence over
the opinions of men ; for directly in propor
tion to the measure of that influence must
ever be the real and essential power which
man possesses, since all of human pursuit, from
the guidance of the springs which whirl the
stupendous wheel of empire, down to the little
sports and plays that amuse the fancy, and
bS

xxu

exercise the imagination of children, is merely
matter of opinion.
Independently, then, of the duty of huma
nity, which would prompt man to throw the
fascinating veil of softness and of polished ex
pression over the harsher features of personal
satire, this measure would be pointed out to
him by the dictates of sound policy and wis
dom, in order that he may attain the end
which he proposed to himself, of laughing
folly out of countenance, or of shaming vice
into at, least a more prudent and cautious dis
play of her enormity, if it could not induce her
to depart entirely from the habitation of the
sons of Adam, and of the daughters of Eve;
for " As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart,
Good breeding sends the satire to the heart."
Pope seemed to fancy that it was very dif
ficult for a man of genius to refrain from lash-

XXI 11
ingeven his most intimate acquaintance, when
he said, " No friend there is, but some unlucky time,
Slides into verse, and hitches into rhyme."
How infinitely more gratifying to the feel
ing and sensible heart is the sentiment of the
benevolent, the amiable Lavater, when he ex
claims — " Let the four-and-twenty elders in
Heaven rise up before that man who spares
his joke to save his friend 1 1 !"
One of the successors of Constantine, sir-
named the Great, demanded of the patriarch
of his metropolis to be admitted to commu
nicate on the following Sunday. The arch
bishop of Constantinople replied, " No; your
life is full of impiety and of profligacy, I will
not admit you to a communion at the altar of
God." The monarch indignantly answered,
" I insist upon becoming a communicant, for
I have sinned as David sinned." The metro-
b4

xxiv
politan rejoined, " Since you have sinned a$
David sinned, go and repent as David repent
ed ; and I will then receive you as a partici
pant of the supper of our Lord."
May I be permitted, with all becoming re
verence, to apply this historic fact ? I too have
sinned, in that I have wounded the peace of
many of my fellow- creatures by the bitterness
of unmerited invective, and the cruelty of un
deserved satire : but I also have repented with
tears of unfeigned sorrow, and of undisguised
anguish ; the day has come to me, but it has
brought me no joy; the night has come to me,
but it has brought me no rest ; full many a
rending pang, and many a weary throe, the off
spring of a memory too fatally exerted for my
peace, have Wrung my soul, for that I have in
flicted pain and suffering on those who have
never injured me, and many of whose charac
ters I have most fatally mistaken.

xxv
" O thou pale orb that silent shines,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep 1
Thou seest a wretch that inly pines,
And wanders here to wail and weep I
With woe I nightly vigils keep,
Beneath thy wan unwarming beam,
And mourn in lamentation deep,
How life and love are all a dream.
I joyless view thy rays adorn
The faintly-marked distant hill ;
I joyless view thy trembling horn
Reflected in the gargling rill.
My fondly flutt'ring heart, be still !
Thou busy power, Remembrance, cease !
Ah ! must the agonizing thrill
For ever bar returning peace ¦
The mora that warns th' approaching day
Awakes me up to toil and woe :
I see the hours in long array
That I must suffer, ling'ring slow.
Pull many a pang, and many a throe,
Keen Recollection's direful train
Must wring my soul, ere Phoebus, low,
Shall kiss the distant western main.

XX VI
-And when my nightly couch I try,
Sore harass'd out with care and griefj
My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye,
Keep watchings with the nightly thfef :
Or, if I slumber, fancy, chief,
Reigns haggard-wild in sore affright ;
Ev'n day, all bitter, brings relief
From such a horror-breathing night."
" Farewell hours that late did measure,
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure ;
Hail 1 thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow.
O'er the past too fondly wand'ring,
On the hopeless future pond'ring ;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell Despair my fancy seizes.
Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing j
O, how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee !"
Will it make mine enemies to be at peace
with me, and again to receive me into their
communion and intercourse, if I say that the
remainder of my life shall be employed in en-

xxvn
deavouring, by thought, word, and deed, to
promote the individual and the collective hap
piness of my fellow- creatures ?
To the youthful reader, if any such shall be,
of this little work, I most earnestly address
myself, and beseech him to remember, or to
learn, that individual and universal benevo
lence alone can impart to his own bosom peace
and joy, and to others felicity and comfort ;
that to fear God, and to keep his command-
menrs, is the whole duty of man.
" The great Creator to revere,
Must sure become the creature ;
But yet all whining cant forbear,
And e'en the rigid feature.
But ne'er with wits prophane to range,
Be complaisance extended ;
An atheist's laugh's a poor exchange
For Deity offended.
While whirling round in pleasure's ring,.
Religion may be blinded ;
And tho' she gie a random sting,
She may be little minde J.

XXVU1
But, when on life we're tempest-driv'rty
Our conscience but a canker,
A correspondence fix-'d with heav'n,
Is sure a noble anchor.
Adieu, dear amiable youth,
Your heart can ne'er be wanting ;
May prudence, fortitude, and-truth,
Erect your bro;w undaunting.
In rustic phrase — God send you speed
Still daily to grow wiser ;
And may you better reck the rede,
Than ever did th* ADVISER."
Inner Temple,
Nov. 30, 1804.

CONTENTS.

Page
The Dedication. - I
The Preface. - vii
Reasons for undertaking the Work - - viii
Remarks on Barclay the Apologist - - ix
Solemn recantation of all former literary misdeeds - xiv
Ismael's hand was against every man - - ib.
To regard the feelings of others, 3 sacred duty - xv
Good motives alone do not justify an action - xvi
Does personal satire ever produce goed ? - xix
All power measured by the quantity of influence over
human opinion * - xxi
Benevolent saying of Lavater - - - xxiii
Anecdote of an emperor and archbishop of Constan
tinople - - - ib.
Application of the anecdote * - - xxiv
Address to the youthful Reader - - xxvii
Introductory Chapter. i
The sources whence the materials of this book are
drawn - * - 3
Chapter on Fajth, - 4

XX* Page
Why no man can say that he has more religion than
another - - 5
This reasoning a little modified - - 9
CHAPTER I.
The System of the Friends examined as to its Cort-
Jormity with the Scriptures.

SECT. I,

On the Fall of Man.

- I0

Sin not imputed to man

- 12

SECT. II.

On Christ and his Attributes.

-'3

Belief of the Friendi as to this point

- 14

The divinity of Christ

- '5

SECT. III.

On the Holy Spirit.

- 16

The tenets of the Friends as t3 this point

- J7

Free agency of man

- 18

SECT. IV.

Ori the Trinity.
- r9
Why Faith is not cognizable by reason
- 20
, SECT. V.
On Perfection.
- 21
Perfection does not mean absolute goodness
- ib.
SECT. VI.
On the Scriptures.
- 22
Earnest study of the scriptures by the Friends
- ib.
XXXI.

SECT. VII. Page

On Tithes. - 23
Tenets of the Friends as to tithes - - 24
Tithes merely a political institution - - 25
The established church a most important part of our
constitution — its influence in the state - - ib.
The indisputable right of the established clergy to
tithes - - 16
Evil consequences to be expected from any innova
tion on the national ecclesiastical establishment - 27
Permanency and beauty of the English constitution - 29
Argument in favour of monarchy drawn from the
recent events in a neighbouring empire - 3 1
Difference between the sensations produced in a poli
tician and a christian by the crash of kingdoms - ib.
Tithes, an impolitic mode of providing for the clergy 33
. Absurdity of toleration with regard to religious sects - 35
Anecdote of Louis XIV. and the Due d'Orleans
The mode adopted by the Friends as to the non-pay
ment 'of tithes not fitted to produce its desired end

31

SECT. VIII.
On the Ministry of the Friends. - 40
The universal church of Christ, — what - -41
A particular church, — what - - 42
Duty of a minister of the gospel - - ib.
Why women may preach - - 43
The ecclesiastical establishment of the Friends - 44
Mode of ordaining ministers among the- Friends - 45
Their method of regulating their clergy - 47
Conclusion from the premises - "55

xxxu
SECT. IX. Page
On the Worship of the Friends. - 5^
Advantages of public worship - - 56
Why Sunday proper for public worship - 57
Effects of silent worship on the cultivated mind - 58
Its effects on uneducated minds - "59
Barclay's similes of the operations of the Spirit are not
- calculated to promote seriousness - - 62
Vocal worship among the Friends - - 63
Political advantages of preaching - - ib.
SECT. X.
On Baptism. - 64
SECT. XI.
On the Communion. ,. 66
Benefit of external means in religion - - 68
SECT. XII.
Review of the religious System of the Friends, - 68
Friends* principles are spreading in France - 70
CHAPTER II.
The fnfuence of the Tenets of the Friends an their
Conduct as Individuals,
sect. \T
On Conversation. ,. 71
The advantages of well-regulated conversation - ib.
The requisites of profitable conversation - 73
The four modes of acquiring knowledge are, 1. attention
to external objects; 2. reading; 3. thinking ; 4. con-

XXXIll Page
to external objects; 2. reading ; 3. thinking ; 4. con-
1 versation - - - - 73
Consequences of cultivating these sources of know
ledge - - 79
SECT. H.
The Conversation of the Friends is decent. 80
Their abhorrence from oaths - - 81
Why ignorant people swear in common discourse - ib.
Oaths too frequent in our courts of judicature and
elsewhere - - - 82
Lord Kaimes - - - 83
Can society be held together without oaths ? - 84
The Friends reject all titles - - 85
The political advantages resulting from titles - ifcf.
Reasons why the Friends keep distinct from the
World - - - 86
Reasons why the Friends should mix more with the
world - - 87

SECT. III.
Conversation of the Friends in general not expanded. 83
Paucity of literature among the Friends - 89
Honourable exception in Lindley Murray - ib.
Human power and happiness promoted by knowledge 95
End and design of man's creation - - 92
Doctrine of a saving ignorance exploded - 93
Classification of the powers or faculties of the human
mind - - - 94
All the materials of knowledge gotten by sensation 9 j
Senses of women more acute than those of men - 96
Genius defined and exemplified - • 9?
c

4bcxiV
Page
Hence riecessiry df early enlarged education -i , 97
Want of ear for music — its cause - * ib.
Marked difference between the senses and the mind 99
Capacity of receiving ideas measured.and limited by
the aouteness of the organs of sensation - 104
Capacity of using ideas measured and limited by the
force and strength of the powers of the mind - ib.
Powers of the mind not proportioned to the aeute-
ness of the senses - - rf>.
S. Johnson: — a clown— ^Reynolds - - 107
Why some like prose better than verse - 108
Demosthenes-^-toil the ground on which genius must
be built— genius can excel in any department of
knowledge - - -.109-
Ignorance the plenitude of weakness - - 113
A Franciscan Abbe and a woman of Damascus - 1 14
Inevitable horrors of universal ignorance - 115"
Capacity of virtue measured by the extent of the
understanding - - -• is8
Knowledge does not necessarily produce pride — So
crates — Newton— S. Johnson ,, - - 119
Knowledge not a necessary cause of sorrow - 121
Knowledge does not necessarily lead to atheism1 —
' Bacon — Milton — Boyle — Sir Wm. Jones - 124-
The lendency of knowledge towards religion - 126*
No arguing against the use of a thing from its- abuse 128
Knowledge the cause 'of happiness - - 129
'Objection to knowledge drawn from the supposed ig
norance of the apostles answered - - 130
AU power proportioned to the quantity of mind - 132
Knowledge'does not unfit men' for military atchieve-
' ments — nor for state politics - - 134
Lorenzo de Medici — Longinus-^Pliny, &c. " - 136".
Knowledge does not unfit men for public duty - 13,7;

XXXY Page
Knowledge does not render men averse from obedi
ence to good government, of which it is the
firmest support — it is alike the terror of tyranny
and of lawless anarchy - - 138
The character of what a man ought to be - 139
SECT. iv.
On the Apparel of the Friends. 145
Jts neatness and decency — no inherent sanctity in
dress — a plain Friend — a Parisian beau — the mean
between the two extremes, best «¦ - 146
Garb of the male — of the female Friends - 147
sect. v.
On the Address or external Manner of the
Friends. - 14S
Importance of exterior carriage in human affairs - ib.
Address of the male — of the female Friends - 149
Fashionable affectation of indifference both the
cause and the effect of ignorance - - 149
sect. vi.
On the Occupation of the Friends. 151
The Friends shut out from the army, navy, church,
law, and offices under government by their pe
culiar tenets «¦ 1- - ib.
Pursuit of medicine by the Friends - - ib.
The celebrated Dr. Fothergill - ' lS2
The, mode of apothecarising men into physicians,
injudicious - r ib.
Farming used as a business by the Friends r 153
Trade and commerce an employment of the Friends 155
c 2

Xxxvi
sect. vn. Pugei
On the Mode of Study among the Friends. 1-561
System of education among the Friends is religious,
moral, and nseful — but not very enlarged or ex
tended - - - 157
Hints and an outline, of liberal education offered - 158
True object of all education - - J59
No such thing as abstract power - - 161
All national power depends upon individual exertion
directed to its own particular ends - 1 6z
Indispensable necessity of treating children tenderly - 163
Solomon — breed of the Orbilii - - 164
Evil consequences of inflicting bodily pain on children 165
Pleasure the most powerful incitement to human
action - - - ib.
No compelling people to be virtuous - - 1 66
Our general conduct to children absurd and cruel - 167
The only supposable case where corporeajL pain
should be inflicted on a child - - 1681
How bodily restraint should be administered 7 169
The evil consequences of the system of pain which
we use throughout all the stages of life - 17b
.That mode of education best, which hoth strengthens
the body and improves the mind - 1 73^
Athletic games useful — advantages, of dancing — and
of fencing — nourishing diet - - ib.
First rudiments of knowledge to be taught to all the
human race - - - *74
Mode of education for the poor— reading, writing,
— useful arithmetic — religion — morality ~ 17S
One great ceconomic truth should be taught to every
, individual, poor as well as rich - -176

xxxvii Pagt
J|lode of education for the mediocral and higher
orders - - - 178
An early acquaintance with nature in all her visible
forms r - - ib.
Effects of the milder charms of nature - 179
Effects of the grander works of nature - -181
How these are to be pointed out, and made to direct
the soul to God - - - 1 83
Stanzas of a misguided female - - in.
How the mind to be led to its loftiest height of virtue '
and of dignity - - - 185
W^y sublime effects are produced in .the human
mind by surveying Nature's works - 190
Beautiful objects — sublime objects — of sight— -of
sound — the effect they produce - - 193
Conclusions drawn from the premises - - 195
English language to be taught grammatically — Lindley
Murray's grammar? - - 196
English composition — habit of reading aloud, its ne
cessity and benefit « - 197
Effect of the study of language - t ib.
Latin and Greek, their great utility « - 198
Advantage of learning other languages - 199
Science, its benefits to man — in a savage state - ib.
In regulating the moral conduct -. - 20 r
In tempering the fancy - - 202
In directing and strengthening all the powers of the
mind - - 203
Bure and mixed mathematics « - ib.
Natural philosophy « - 204
Reasoning in mathematics — physics, and morals —
pietaphysics, how best attained — Helvetius - 207
How to remedy a barren and an ardent imagination 20$

XXXVf.il Page
¦SPhilosophical criticism - - 213
Studv of ceconomics, its benefit, and requisites - ib,
Study of the law of England, its peculiar advantages 21$
Why men do not generally succeed in its attainment 216
Geography, history, biography — relations of voyagers,
and travellers - - - 217
How history is written — how it ought to be written 219
Pericles the Athenian — Henry the Fourth of France 222
Necessity and benefit of thinking in words - 223 •
Habit of composing in severallanguages - 225-
Mythological subjects useless and improper - ib,
'The pupil should compose on the sources of human
power - - %%6 '
Industry the foundation of all power both individual -
and national - - - ib.
Peculiar necessity- of industry to men of genius - ib, -;
Horrors of idleness - ' - 227
Nothing great or lasting without industry steadily
directed - - - 229
CEconomy, a great source of individual and national
power - - - 231
Meanness and cowardice -of extravagance - ib,
Virtue a wide source of power — its peculiar advantages 333
Vice, a source of power-^its peculiar disadvantages 234
Public speaking - - _ 235
Repeating plan, its advantages—beneficial effects pf
studying the pqets <• ' - 236"
Curran, the Irish advocate - - 238
The great Leviathan of the English bar - 239
Natural history, study of, its benefits - ibr
Study of the fine arts — their beneficial effects on the
- human mind, «• - 244

Xjcjux Page
Painting, sculpture — fine arts and literature go hand
in hand - - 245
Music — peculiar effects of music on the imagination 24c*
It excites courage — benevolence — peace - 246
Travelling into foreign countries - - 25 r>
Necessity and advantage of teaching a system of uni
versal benevolence to every individual — slow minds
— our Saviour - - ib<
Necessity of benevolence in conversation — in writing
— in thought^-in action - - 252
Louis XIV. and prince d'Armagnac - 256
Particular profession — public life — retirement - 257
sect. viii.
On the Recreations of the Friends. 259
These are pure and simple — their abhorrence of the
stage - - - 26c
Observations on the effects produced by the stage on
the public mind - - - ib.
Field-sports — public routs, &c. — fine arts - 261
sect. ix.
On the Moral Conduct of the Friends. 263
Which exemplary and good — particularly as parents
— a family circle described «• - 263
Dr. Isaac Watts's saying about our intercourse with
infants — Socrates — Lord Chancellor King — the
caliph, his children, and general - - 264
sect. x.
On the Religious Conduct of the Friends. 265

JSl

CHAPTER III.
On the Society of Friends as a Body Politic governed
by their own Laws and Ordinances.
sect. 1. P«g*
The religious Establishment of the Friends. zd6
Meeting for sufferings - - 268
The Friends never oppose the existing government ib.
Morning meeting of ministers and elders— ^-meetings
for worship - - - 269
The ministers among the Friends - - ib.
Remarks on the words " man's wisdom'' as used by
the Friends in religious matters - - 2"jo
Duty of ministers — 'the elders, their duty — women's
meetings— convinced persons - - 271
Study of the Holy Scriptures — its peculiar advantage
— oaths, tithes, war ' - - 274
Voltaire — slave-trade - - 27$.
Review of the religious system of the Friends » 277
SECT. II.
The Moral Government of the Friends. 278 '
Great care taken by the Friends to give good moral
and religious instruction in their systems of edu- •
cation both domestic and public - - 279
School-masters, and school-mistresses — books, con
versation, conduct, temperance, moderation, cha-
¦ rity, love, and unity - - ib<
Review of the moral system of the Friends * 283

xii

SECT. III. Page
Political Establishment of the Friends, 283
Meetings for discipline - - ib.
Preparative meetings — monthly meetings — quarterly
meetings — half yearly meetings — yearly meetings
— appeals — arbitration - - 284
Obedience to the civil government - - 286
Days and times — fast-days — illuminations. - 287
FaKiily visits — benefits of this measure - 290
Regulations of the Friends concerning marriage de
fensible on every ground of policy and of wisdom 291
Misery of inconsistent marriages - - 293
Misery of early attachments, without the means of
procuring a speedy union - - 294
Servants, masters and mistresses - - 296
Mourning habits, and funerals — plainness v - 297
Public collections for the Society - - 298
Plainness in speech, life, and apparel - - ib.
Regulations respecting the poor among the Friends - ib.
The Friends also support other poor, besides their
own - - - 299
The poor laws of England — their tendency — absur
dity — and cruelty - - 300
The principle of population outruns the principle of
the produce of the earth - -301
Poor-laws hold up a high bounty for an excessive
population - - - ib.
Society for bettering the condition of the poor - 302
Necessity and impprtance of inquiring into the state
of the poor - - 303
Industry the road %o happiness - - 30/l
d.

xlii Page
Ingratitude of the poor considered - - 305
Idleness of the poor considered, how to be removed - 306
Drunkenness pf.the poor, how caused - ib.
Benefits of a steady, practicable system of relief to
the poor - - - 308
Effects of enabling the poor to acquire property - ib.
Fire-places of cottages — beggars and mendicants —
apprentices to manufactories — parish workhouses
— relief to the -peasant in his own cottage - 309
Views of the society for bettering the condition of
the poor — the patron, presidents, &c. - 3 1 1
Effects of the poor-laws — increase of the poor-rates 31 2
In what consists national prosperity and strength - ib,
Present alarming state of the poor - - 313
Government cannot prevent or remedy the miseries
inseparably attendant upon an excessive population. 315
But no government should hold up a bounty for such
an excessive population - - ib.
The English poor-laws are a bounty for an excessive
population - - , - 316
Absurdity of endeavouring to compel industry - ib.,
Kindness the only incitement to industry - ib.
Horrid effects of letting out workhouses to farm - ib.
Destructive consequences of entombing the poor in
parish workhouses - - - 317
In times of scarcity the farmers are the saviours of the
Country, by keeping up the corn at a high price ib.
The poor-laws deprive the people of all prudence, :'
¦' forecast, industry, and virtue - - 320
Plunging the poor into workhouses a great waste 
of national strength and power - -321
Essence of political wisdom to excite all the people -
to endeavour to better their condition - 322

xlii! Page
Consequences of such excitement to the nation - 323
Necessity of finding some innocent and useful employ
ment for the poor, in their leisure moments - 324
Necessity and benefit of disseminating useful practi
cable knowledge among the poor - - 325
Profligacy of the poor considered - - 326
Reports of the society for bettering the condition of
the poor - - - 327
'The poor protected from imposition - - 328
Miserable hovels of the poor - *. ib.
Parish workhouses crowd good and bad together —
are nurseries of iniquity - - 329
Mere pecuniary alms are not charity - - 331
What true charity to the poor is - - 332
Population of this country much increased of late - ib.
Horrid effects of many manufactories on the health
and morals of the British poor - "333
How this evil to be remedied - - 334
The poor-laws destroy all exertion in the poor - 336
No limits to the augmentation of the poor-rates under
the present system - - 337
The poor injured by public charitable establishments - ib.
Necessity of properly educating the poor - 339
Of permitting them to acquire property - - 340
Statement of what the poor require and deserve at
our hands - - - ib.
Tribute of applause to the merits of the society for
bettering the condition of the poor - -341
Queries of the Friends — records — removals and
settlements — trade — wills — executors and adminis
trators - - 343
Review of the political system of the Friends - 346

XllV

CHAPTER IV.
Influence of the Tenets of the Friends to their Conduct
as Subjects of the British Government.
k- -¦ Page
Farewell address to the Friends - - 340
Address to the Public -.. - - 3S»

THE

SYSTEM QF THE FRIENDS
EXAMINEE).

Ah! Who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame?s proud tempi* shihfes afar?
Ah! who can tell how many A soul sublime
Has felt the influence of malignant star,
And waged with Fortune an eternal war ; —
Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown*
And Poverty's unconquerable bar,
In life's low vale remote has pined alone.
Then dropt into the grave, unpftied and Unknown!

.INTRODUCf ORY tHAFtEA.
MY intention in this work is not to touch
upon any individual character of the Friends^
merely as such, but only to examine the system of
their society under the four heads of-^their tenets
compared with the scriptures — their conduct as
individuals — their conduct as a society — their con
duct as subjects — each of which heads will form a
B

distinct chapter, consisting of several -sections, fof
the more accurate division of the volume, and in
order to tender its contents more ready of refe
rence, and more facile of apprehension.
If* the arrangement which I have made should
appear injudicious or erroneous, I shall most wil
lingly alter it at the suggestion of any candid and
benevolent adviser ; for, as my sole intention and
aim in writing this book are to promote the cause
of truth and of virtue, I, surely, can never be so
minutely bigotted, so pettily prejudiced, as to ad
here with inflexible pertinacity to any mode of
classification, whose deficiencies had been once
fairly pointed out, merely because that classifica
tion happened to be a creature of my Own framing.
From" the unavoidable and indispensable neces
sity of devoting nearly the whole of my life to pro
fessional pursuits, I have been precluded from an
opportunity of examining with so much leisure,
accuracy, and extensive research, as I could have
wished, the subject of my present consideration ; a
circumstance, which, I hope and trust, will- pro
cure me indulgence for the omissions and defi
ciencies to be found in the following pages, and
also induce those, who are more fully and correct
ly informed than I am upon the matter in ques
tion, to furnish me with the means of amending

my errors, and blotting out my mistakes, if, at any
future period of time, I may ever again have leisure
or opportunity to reconsider the contents of this
volume. The books on which I have chiefly relied for
written instructions on the subject of my present
discussion, are William Penn's Key to distinguish
the Religion of the People called Quakers, &c. Bar
clay's \Apohgy, the Book of Extracts from the Mi
nutes and Advices of the yearly Meeting of Friends,
held in London, from its first institution, second
edition, London 1802, printed by Phillips, George-
yard, Lombard-street ; andjalso, a very able, well-
written pamphlet, by Joseph Gurney Bevan, con
taining " a refutation of some of the more modern
misrepresentations of the Society of Friends, with a
life of James Nayler." But some things I have had
an opportunity of collecting from my own obser
vation, which, at one period of my life, was parti
cularly directed towards the proceedings of the
society of Friends, whom I always regarded as a
most interesting object of speculation to the poli
tician and the philosopher.

B2

CHAPTER ON FAITH.
I entek upon the discussion of this subject
with all due reverence and awe, because the rea
son of a being so frail and weak, as is man, cannot
fathom, or comprehend the height, and breadth,
and depth of the mysteries,, which be of God. Nei
ther am I a friend to too curious and prying an
examination into those, high and subtle , points,
those speculative subjects, which, however they-
may exercise the ingenuity of man's dialectic
powers, contribute but little, I fear, to the ad
vancement of practical Christianity, to the cultiva
tion of that meekness, humility, benevolence, and
Charity, which are so peculiarly acceptable in the
sight Of God.
One thing, however, I particularly and most
earnestly desire to guard myself against, that is,
the daring and unwarrantable presumption, that
the peculiar mode of religidtts belief which I fok
low, is better than that which is the object of.'faitb
to other persuasions and other divisions of the
christian church.
A very little examination will shew, not Only the
wickedness, but the broad absurdity (if, indeed,
absurdity and sin can ever fail to go hand in hand

together) of such an opinion. How is it possible
for me to know that I am favoured with more reli
gious light and knowledge than the rest of man
kind? The virtue or the vice of any given action can*
not consist, altogether, in its actual performance, or
the eventual consequences derived from it ; but,
chiefly and principally, in the motive, the spring of
the mind, which first prompts us to bring it to
light: prudence, indeed, and benevolent caution
require, lest we unadvisedly wound the hearts of
our fellow-men, to calculate upon the effects likely
to be produced by any one action of our lives ;
but, surely, since the thoughts of the heart are ac
tions before God, and his all-seeing eye and hear
ing ear need not the intervention of words nor the
interposition of deeds, in order to render him ac
quainted with our intentions, surely I am justified
in saying, that the motive, the incitement to actionj
must be the primary measure of human virtue.
Now the motives of our actions cannot be
known, unless we examine our own hearts ; but
none, saving God and ourselves, can examine our
own hearts, whence the motives of our actions can
be known only to God arid to Ourselves, that is,
only God and ourselves can know whether we are
"good or bad; religious or profane; hence no mor-
B3

6
tal is enabled to say that , he possesses more reli
gious light, more spiritual and saving knowledge
than another; much less, can any body, any sect,
any company of men presume to assert, that the
lamp of Christianity is kept alive only in the temple
of their worship.
In this imperfect state of existence, we can only
form our judgment of men by the ostensible display
of their actions, and the consequences which they
induce on society: but this is looking to the effect,
not the cause, catching at the shadow and losing
the substance; for many people are considered by
their neighbours(and those neighbours good people,
not inclined to malignant and uncharitable inter
pretations of another's conduct) as very wicked and
unprincipled, when, before God, and in the sight of
their own consciences, they are as pure and unspot
ted as the lot of humanity will suffer them to be ;
and many a vile and hypocritical wretch is esteemed
a good christian by his acquaintance, when, before
the dread tribunal of the Almighty, and of the Holy
Spirit, he stands charged with the commission of
iniquities, and with the perpetration of crimes,
which blacken and deform humanity.
If, therefore, we can do no more than arrive at
a probable conjecture as to the religious opinions of
another by observing his actions, much les can we

7
presume to pronounce upon the quantity of his
inward spiritual illumination by his being enrolled
in any particular sect or denomination of the
christian church, since every company of religious
persuasion is, merely, a human institution, holden
together by the formal and the shadowy bonds of
human laws and of human customs. The sect of
Friends, of Lutherans, of Calvinists, or any other
sect, all owe their rise to the same origin, political
expediency. The spirit of Christianity exists only
in the heart, independent of all human impediments
and incumbrances, belongs to no society, or religi
ous persuasion, merely as such, but breaks down
every partition-wall that divides weak and bigotted
people from each other, and embraces all mankind
as brethren, wishing them all good and all happiness,
and is well assured, that very many are travelling
on towards the same great city, even the New Je
rusalem, although they pursue, apparently, divers
and sundry roads, owing to the forms which are
found to be indispensably necessary, as certain
guides and land-marks, by which to direct the
footsteps of mankind in the paths of open and
ostensible decorum of conduct, of decency, and of
morality. Surely, these most important truths
should induce us to listen with complacency to
the following sentiments of the bard, sentiments
full of benevolence, and full of Christianity,
B4

8
Then gently scan your brother man.
More gerftly sister woman ;
Tho' they may gang a kennin wrarsg,
To step aside is human.
One point must still he greatly dark,
The moving why they do it,
And just as lamely can ye mark . r
How far, perhaps, they rue it.
Who made the heart, 'tis HE alone
Decidedly can try us ;
HE knows each chord — its' various tone,
Each spring-^its various bias:
Then, at th? balance let's be mute.
We never can adjust it ;
What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's. resisted.
From this undisguised and undissembled avowal
of my opinion, as to matters of faith, it will readily
be seen that I do not intend to bewilder myself in
the mazy labyrinths of, polemical disputation, nor
to tread the thorny paths of religious controversy,
I shall merely consider the religious system of
the Frjends, 1st. As it appears to be in conformity
with the scriptures; 2dly, As it operates upon
their conduct, as individuals ; 3dly. As.tQ the ef
fects it produces upon them collectively, as a so
ciety; and 4thly. As to the consequences, which
it induces to the British people, with regard to
their governmental institutions,

9
I must not omit to mention, that on my showing
this part of the book to a friend of mine, who once
belonged to the Society, but is now no longer en
rolled in its records, he said, that my positions with
regard to faith ought to be somewhat qualified;
and he was so obliging as to write his sentiments
on that head in the following words.
It appears to me, that the general tenor of a
man's conduct, or the general conduct of a body
prpfessing one faith, may be more accurately de
monstrative of the portion and power of faith, so
professed, than the author imagines. Let the- words
of Christ be remembered, " For a good tree
bringeth not forth corrupt fi nit ; neither doth a
corrupt tree brkig forth good fruit. Every tree is
known by its fruit ; men do not gather grapes.
from thorns, nor figs from thistles ; by their works
ye shall know them," &c. &c.
And are not men guided in their works by their
faith 1 And, fo use the author's own simile, is not
the shadow upon the wall formed after the image
pf the substance by which it is cast?

ro

CHAPTER I.
THE SYSTEM OF THE FRIENDS EXAMINED, AS TO
ITS CONFORMITY WITH THK SCRIPTURES.
SECT. I.
On the Fall of Man.
THE fall of man from his original state of inno
cence and of bliss in the bowers of Paradise, is
justly considered to be the foundation-principle of
a christian's creed ; for if man had not sinned,
what need would he have of the aid and the assist
ance of an intercessor and a mediator at the throne
of God ?
I am well aware, that many very learned and
good people (among whom Bishop Warburton is
one, as appears from some positions which he ad
vances in his Divine Legation of Moses, a book
which is a most wonderful compound of deep and
extensive erudition, sarcastic humour, close reason
ing, and wild extravagant conjecture) assert, that
the narrative of the fall, as it is related in the few
first chapters of Genesis, must he considered merely
as an allegory, and by no means to be received in
its literal signification, as an historic fact.

11
Whether or not this be so, I shall not now dis
cuss, as I intend most steadily to avoid every kind
of mere speculative disquisition throughout the
whole of this little tract. It is sufficient for a chris
tian to believe, that an extreme propensity to sin was
introduced by Adam's wilful disobedience to the
commands of God, without very minutely inquir
ing, what his exact state and condition were before
the fall, whether or not it was by eating the fruit
of the forbidden tree, that he brought death into
this world, and all our woe, the loss of Eden, or in
what peculiar spot the site of the garden of Para
dise was precisely fixed.
The faith of a christian appears to rest upon this
basis, that our first parents fell, through disobedi
ence, into sin, which they entailed on all their pos
terity, according to the saying of Paul the Apostle,
" For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all shall be
made alive."
The belief of the Friends, on this point, as I col
lect it from Barclay's fourth proposition, is in most
accordant union with the doctrine of the sacred
writings. With his usual good sense and accus
tomed discretion, Barclay declines all fruitless in
quiry into the awful obscurity in which, to the eye
of human reason, all the mysteries of the christain
faith are enveloped, and proceeds immediately to

.12
state his own full conviction of the fall of man, and
to describe the consequences of that fall, as a dark
ening of the image of God in man, as a quenching
of the spirit of holiness in the human heart. But;
with a discernment and a benevolence that reflects.
equal credit upon his understanding and his heart,
he declares, that he does not ascribe any portion
of Adam's guilt to men until they make it their
own by the like acts of disobedience.
Barclay goes on to state, that Adam, and all his
posterity, in consequence of the fall, were rendered
incapable, as far as relates to themselves, pf acquir
ing any knowledge or light in spiritual things;
which can only be obtained by the aidJof the holy
spirit of God influencing and guiding their hearts
to good. He argues most strenuously and satis
factorily to prove, that sin is not imputed to any
who do not actually commit sin ; and thus declared
his decided opposition to that horrid doctrine, that
all those who are not baptised into the christian
church, are doomed to everlasting misery; a doc
trine which, at one fell sweep, consigns to eternal
condemnation full seven-tenths of the whole human
race, including in its dark and dreary calculations,
not only all the inhabitants of those countries
which have never heard of the name of Christ, but
also all the little, helpless, innocent babes that are
born into this world, breathe a while, and then close1

13
their eyes ifl the sleep of death, ere they have been
enrolled as members of the particular persuasion of
the christian faith to which their, parents and kin
dred appertain.
As far as I am able to judge, I find that the be
lief of the Friends, with respect to the fall of man,
is exactly consonant with; the tenets of the sacred
scriptures. Proceed we, therefore, to the considera
tion of the next section, containing the discussion
of the most important article in the creed of a
christian. SECT. II. 1 I
On Christ and his Attributes.
AN awful and an impressive series of prophecies
reaches throughout the whole extent of the Old
Testament, all conspiring to predict the accom
plishment of one great and stupendous event, that
a virgin should conceive and bear a sop, and should
call his name Immanuel, that the government
should be upon his shoulder, and his name be cal
led Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the
Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.
This event was, in the fulness of time, and in
the maturity of years, accomplished by the advent
-^f the Messiah, whose miraculous birth, conduct,

14
Sufferings, doctrine, death, ascension, divinity, me
diatorial power to intercede for and to save all of
the human race, who are willing to believe and to
obey, are recorded in the New Testament with the
most commanding and the most dignified simpli
city, A steady and an unshaken belief in the exist
ence of all these wonderful events, is the very
source of circulation, the very fountain of life, of
health, and of strength to the soul of a christian;
this faith is, in the heart of the firm believer, a sa
lient, living spring of unutterable joy and felicity,
throughout all the changing scenes of this fleeting,
earthly existence, and throughout all the circling
seasons, which roll round in an eternal sphere.
Such is the faith, and such is the belief of the
Friends; they, like every other true and pious chris
tian people, shrink back from those dogmaswhich
inculcate a denial of the godhead of Christ, dogmas
which detract, beyond all power of calculation,
from the majesty and the dignity of revealed reli
gion, and substitute a scanty, beggarly ransom for
the whole human race, in the stead of the Son of
God, of Him who bears in heaven the second name.
That the belief in the attributes of Christ, as
taught in the scriptures, is that which the Friends

15
entertain, abundantly appears from all their best
writers on religious subjects; witness Pen n, who
says, in the sixth section of his Key, that the great
and characteristic principle of the Friends is, that
Christ, as the divine word, lighteth the souls of all
men with a spiritual and a saving light; that in
Him was life, and the life was the light of men,
and he is God over all, blessed for ever.
Penn says, also, in his eighth section, that no
man can be entitled to the benefit of Christ's
death, as the means of justification and of redemp
tion, unless he believes and repents of the evil of
his ways.
Barclay, in his second proposition, at full length,
enters into and clearly shews the belief of the
Friends to be founded on this basis, that there is
no knowledge of the Father but by the Son, no
knowledge of the Son but by the Spirit, and that
by the Spirit God hath always revealed himself to
his children.
InGeorge Fox's Journal are these words — " We
(that is, the Friends) do own and believe in Jesus
Christ, God's only begotten and beloved Son, in
whom He is well pleased, who was conceived by
the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary ; in
whom we have redemption through his blood, even

•18
the forgiveness of sins; who is the express image'of
the invisible Gpd, the first born of every creature,
by whom were all things created that are in heaven
and that are in earth ; that he tasted death for
every man, and shed his blood for all men ; and is
the propitiation for our sins, arid not for ours only,
but for the sins of the whole world."
It is needless for me to adduce more instances
to shew the exact conformity of the tenets of the
Friends, as to the attributes of Christ, with the doc
trine, on this subject, inculcated in the scriptures i
those who may wish to see the testimony of many
of the best writers which the Society has produced
on this point, will do well to consult the Catechism
and Confession of Faith, by' Robert Barclay; arid &
little bobk, intitled. The Faith of the People called
Quakers, in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, by
Henry Tuke, one of the ministers of the meeting
at York. SECT. III.
On the Holy Spirit. - -
EVERY one, who believes in the revelation of
our blessed Saviour, is well aware, that he can do
nothing good in thought," word, or action, but by
the influence of the Holy Ghost or Spirit, direct
ing us to perceive, to understand, and to obey the

17
precepts contained in the book of life, the New
Testament. The tenets of the Friends, with regard to the
Spirit, as far as I can collect from their best writers,
and am able also to learn from conversing with
and observing the conduct of many members of
the Society now living, are in strict unison with the
precepts relating to this article of the christian
faith, contained in the sacred writings. Penn, and
Barclay; and many others, hold, that man can
obtain no knowledge of God and of Christ, but
through the immediate influence of the Spirit,
which will impel him to the performance of
every good work, will guide him into all truth,
will teach him all things, and bring all things to
his remembrance.
Barclay, also, well knowing that the doctrines of
Christianity, though often far above the reach o£
human reason, yet are never repugnant to it, pro
ceeds to state, that those only are influenced by
the Spirit, who obey the commandments of God,
and fulfil his ordinances ; and that they who wil
fully persist in treading the paths of wickedness
and of vice, are as far distant from the Spirit as is
the centre thrice to the utmost pole, however they
may pretend to clothe their iniquity under the
garb of hypocrisy, and however they may seek to
C

throw the broad mantle of fanaticism over the
darkness of their deeds.
It is of the very essence of Christianity to believe,
that to man, as a moral agent, an accountable
being, a candidate for heaven, the voice of the Al
mighty God said- — Be free. This divine preroga
tive bestows on man virtue, happiness, and a bles
sed immortality ; for virtue^ is the child of liberty,
(since they who are not free to stray cannot be at
liberty to keep the faith) and of freedom happi
ness is the offspring, whence results the claims
(through the mediatorial interference of Christ) of
man to an eternity of bliss.
For my own part, if, as an obscure individual,
I may venture to profess my creed, I believe that
the spirit of God is always directing us to do what
is right, always inciting us to become virtuous and
happy, if we choose to listen to the. still, small
voice within us ; that we can never act, speak, or
think improperly, without knowing that we are
thereby doing wrong; that even the most aban
doned and profligate characters are not wholly
without the' grace of God, which, to the very last
moment of their existence, offers them the means
of becoming virtuous and happy ; but that mari,
-being a free agent, may either listen to the admo
nitions of his conscience or not ; for if lam com-
3

19
pelled irresistibly, no matter by what, whether it
be the Spirit or any other propelling power, to say
or to do any thing, where lies the merit in the
word or the deed ? A machine might do the same,
and would be equally erititled to the reward of
well-doing. But, as I am free to choose whether or not I
will obey the dictates of God, arid listen, to the
influence Of his spirit, which teaches me that the
road to salvation is by relying altogether upon the
merits and mediation of Christ, and by endeavour
ing to live as the gospel directs, and the broad
way to punishment and misery and everlasting
death is the rejection of the commands of the Al
mighty, and refusing to follow the guidance of the
Spirit, and trampling upon the great barriers of
religion and morality, it remains entirely at my
own discretion whether I will embrace darkness
or light, life or death, good or evil.
SECT. IV.
On the Trinity.
PENN, in the fifth section of his Key, says, that
the Friends believe in the holy three, or trinity of
Father, Word, and Spirit, according to scripture^
and that these three are truly arid properly ene-4*-
ef one nature as well afc will.
C2

20
I most studiously decline ,all discussion of sub
jects too mysterious to be brought within the level
of human reason. It is the duty of every chnsr
tian, with all humility and all meekness, to believe,
and to wait with patience and with hope, while he
remains in this imperfect state of existence, where
he sees as in a glass darkly, and dart the look of
anticipation forward to that blessed hour, when he
shall see face to face, when every doubt shall he
cleared away, and every mouth shall be stopped.
Faith, as Paul the apostle observes, is the belief
of things not seen, that is, not cognizable by our
senses; for who hath seen God at any time? But
as we derive all our human knowledge through
the medium of our organs of sensation alone, and
our reason can only act upon those images, whose
primary and component parts we have gained by"
the perception of the objects of the material world,
it is very evident that our reason cannot assume
to itself the province of deciding upon that which
was never offered to the cognizance of the senses,
was never laid up in the only storehouse of intel
lect, from which it draws its materials of know
ledge on which to reflect and to cogitate; but the
hidden mysteries of God have never yet been sub
jected toman's organs of sensation ; therefore, the, , , , ,
reason of man cannot balance and poise these
mysteries, cannot regulate and control their ef-

21
Hects, cannot bind them down in the chains of
obedience, and in the cords of subjection to its
will and pleasure; for what man knoweth the
things of a man save the spirit of a man, which is
in him ? Even so the things of God knoweth no
man, but the spirit of God. Now, we have re
ceived not the spirit of the world, but the spirit
which is of God, that we might freely know the
things which are freely given us of God.
SECT. V.
On Perfection.
BY the term perfection, I understand a continu
ally progressive improvement in christian virtue :
it cannot mean the consummation of goodness,
which we are taught to believe man shall never
attain, either in this state of existence or through
out all eternity ; although the saints shall be con
stantly rising in the ascending scale of virtue,
throughout all the periods of immortality: but
there is none good, i. c. absolutely perfect, but
God. With this doctrine Penn and Barclay seem to
accord. Barclay lays it down, that this perfection
always admits of a growth, and that there remains
always a possibility of sinning, where the mind
C3

22 '
dices nolf most diligently and watchfully attend
qnd wa.it upon the Lord.
In this restricted and qualified sense, the doc
trine of perfection, as holden by the Friends, is
strictly conformable to the precepts of the scrip
tures, and the dictates, of reason,
SECT. VI.
On the Scriptures.
SCARCELY a book appears by any writer
among the Friends, which does not most earnestly
and impressively inculcate the great duty of giving
our days and our nights to the pages of the sacred
scriptures. Barclay has devoted the whole. of his
third proposition to the consideration of this, sub
ject, wherein he points out, most ably and cor
rectly, the benefits to be derived from the constant
perusal of the scriptures. Penn also, in the third
segtion of his Key, maintains the same admirable,
doctrine. The Book of Extracts also, in many places,
particularly in the section on parents, guardians,
and education, bears testimony to, and qnjoips the
frequent and diligent reading of the holy writings,
as an exercise of the mind peculiarly fitted to

23
strengthen and confirm in their hearts the faith
which is in Christ, and to teach them that true
dignity of conduct, which, raising the calm and
tranquil soul above all earthly contaminations,
teaches it to resign every hope and every fear into
the hands of the Almighty, and not to shrink from
the severest assaults, of fortune here below, not to
envy the condition of any created being, not to
murmur or repine at that situation of life in which
it has pleased the Creator of the universe to place it,
but that it may become the abode of peace, hu->
mility, meekness, content, gratitude, faith, hope,
charity, and adoration of its God, its Maker, and
Redeemer. sect. VII,
On Tithes.
AS I could never in my life perceive any thing
very divine, or peculiarly appertaining to religion,
in tithes, I would rather class them among the
subjects of political than of religious considera
tions : but as the Friends appear to lay great stress
upon the non-payment of tithes as an essential
part of their religious duty, in compliance with
such their opinion, I proceed to discuss this sub
ject here.

Cd

24
Almost every book, moral or religious, written
by the Friends, contains repeated and frequent in
vectives against a hireling ministry and the pay
ment of tithes. Invective indeed is too strong a
term, for so chastened and tempered is the spirit
of the Friends in all their writings, that I am not
aware of a single expression to be found in them
which can merit so harsh an appellation as that of
invective. The writers among the Friends then,
continually complain of the burden of an hireling
ministry, and expressly denounce the payment of
tithes, as a deed of sin directly repugnant to the
precepts of the gospel, and to the testimony of the
spirit of God, which enlighteneth their hearts.
I certainly do not mean to enter into any reli
gious controversy on this point, nor to treat the
conscientious scruples of the Friends with the least
shadow of disrespect, but merely to offer a few ob
servations containing my own free and undisguised
opinion upon the subject of tithes.
Every one, who is in the least acquainted with
the history of the church of England, is well aware
of the desperate absurdity of those who endeavour
to establish the doctrine of the divine right of
tithes. Whether the maintenance of a national
church hath a tendency to accelerate or to retard
the progress of Christianity amongst mankind, and

25
whether or not it be necessary to the promotion of
good order, harmony, a wise and an equitable
government, are tremendous political problems,
which it would be very unbecoming in me to at
tempt to solve or to discuss.
It is sufficient for me that I find it a part, and a
very important part, of our established govern
mental constitution; it is, indeed, the keystone
of the political arch, which if taken away would
cause the whole building to tumble into nothing.
The great importance, in the hands of govern
ment, of a political lever so powerful as that of a
body of ecclesiastics, stipendiated and kept in pay
by itself, must readily appear, when we reflect
that scarcely a single town, or parish, or village, or
hamlet, in this kingdom is without one or more
clergymen of the established church. These gen
tlemen are generally men of liberal and of polished
"education. Consider then for a moment what a
weight of influence is thrown into the scale of go
vernment by such a mighty mass of ecclesiastical
intellect/ all regularly classed and arranged under
fixed, determinate, and appropriate heads, rising
in regular gradation, from the village curate up to
the empurpled metropolitan and primate of all
England. These men, coming into continual
contact with the minds of by far the majority of
the English people, must have a very considerable

16
effect in guiding them to sentiments of loyalty to
their king, and of obedience to- the. constituted*
authorities of their country. .
At a former period of time, the nation, or some
individuals who represented the nation, agreed to
allow their chief magistrate, their king, a certain
annual revenue, for the purpose pf upholding and
of maintaining the dignity and the power neces*
sari ly attached to the representative and the head
of a mighty people.
Ethelwolf; in the days of the Saxon heptarchy,
made a present of the tithe, or tenth part of the
produce of the land, to the clergy, whioh tithes
are now established and sanctioned as the birth
right and the inheritance of our national church,
by the same law which empowers, the chief magis*
trateto draw his annual revenue from the people;
and, I confess, I see no reason why one tax in sup
port of government should not be cheerfully and
willingly paid as well as another, nor why any one
should refuse to contribute to the maintenance of
the clergy more than to the support of the king,
whose very safety and existence, indeed, are inti
mately combined with the preservation of the Eng*-
lish' church.
For let us for a moment suppose, that the na-

27
tional clergy were, all at once, deprived of their
ecclesiastical emoluments, and turned out to roam
this wilderness of a world in quest of shelter and
of food ; what, think you, would be the conse
quence of the decided hostility of such a for
midable body of men, amongst whom floats such
a mighty mass of science and of erudition, against
the existing government? For certainly it is to be
expected, that all those men, who had been' for
cibly and unjustly deprived of t,heir means pf ex
istence for no valid reason ;-— I say forcibly and
unjustly, because no reason could be offered as a
pretext for taking away the property of the church,
which would not equally apply as an argument in
favour of sweeping away the whole British con
stitution from the face of the earth ;-~- would exert
all their mental powers to examine by what right
the government bad defalcated them of their in
heritance; nay, by what right the government it
self existed. Now we need no angel from heaven
to tell us, far every man of common sense will
easily foresee, to what awful and serious conse
quences such an examination and discussion
would lead, when carried on with all the vigour of
ability, stimulated to revenge, and stung to despe
ration by the bitterness of oppression and the lash
of injustice. This fearful contest, probably, would
too soon be decided between the ephemeral meteors
of a court, and the irresistible blaze of the united

28
intellect of the church of England clergy all con
centrated into one burning focus; for intellect is
the only steady and intrinsic power existing in the
universe, and always ultimately helms its bark in
safety through the waves of contention, and bounds
triumphant over the billows of opposition. '
When Charles the First, listening to the dic
tates of a misguided and a fatal temporizing poli
cy, a policy of expedient and of trick, suffered the
bishops of his day to be cashiered, he, in effect, at
that moment signed his own death warrant, as
Clarendon, whose political sagacity none ever ex
celled, and whose loyalty to his king few have ever
equalled; told his royal master. And if any future
monarch of the British empire should ever be in
duced by the mistaken views and suggestions of
short-sighted and shallow counsellors, to consent
to the breaking down the barriers, and laying
waste the strong holds,, and levelling in the dust
the towers and the battlements of the English-
church, it is much. tD be feared that he will soon
exchange his earthly diadem for a heavenly crown.
If, then, the national church of this kingdom is
so indispensably necessary to the upholding and
the supporting of the government, it seems by no
means an unfair deduction from the premises to
assert, that they who refuse to contribute their

29
quota towards the maintenance of this very import-
tant branch of the constitution do, in fact, set them
selves up in opposition to the government : and
such a government as may proudly challenge the
universe, from the first syllable of recorded time
down to the present fleeting moment, to produce
its peer. Founded on the broad basis of experi
ence, of truth, of reason, and of liberty, it has stood
unmoved amidst the wreck of elements and the war
of worlds! While the demon of anarchy and of
phrenzied turbulence has shaken, with the blast of
desolation, other empires to the very centre, has
crumbled into dust the thrones of antient mo
narchies, has made kingdoms, that were as the gar
den of Eden, to become a wilderness and a waste,
so that no traveller pitcheth his tent there, neither
do the shepherds make their fold there, but all is
brought to silence, our governmental establishment,
resting on a legal code, whose power of punish
ment, capacity of redress, and impartial administra
tion of justice, rise in our esteem and veneration in
the exact ratio of their being studied with attention,
and investigated with accuracy, has increased in
beauty and advanced in strength, the envy and the
admiration of all the surrounding kingdoms of the
globe. ¦•i' !¦
To the first framers of our Constitution we may

30
justly apply the words of one of the loftiest bards
that 'ever sung r^—
" And they, alone, whose comprehensive mind
From situation, temper, soil, and clime
Explor'd, a nation's Various powers can bindi
And various orders in one form sublime
Of policy, that 'midst the wrecks of time, ,
, Secure shall lift its head on high, nor fear
Th' assault of foreign or domestic crime,
While public faith, and public love sincere,
And Industry and Law maintain their swajf severe1* '
*' Hail, sacred Polity, by Freedom rear'd !
Hail, sacred Freedom, when by'laW restrain'd !
'» Without you what were man \ A groveling herd, i
In darkness, wretchedness, and Want enchain'd.
By you sublim'd, the Greek and Roman reign'd
In arts unrivall'd : O, to latest days
In Albion may your influence itnpi'sfaii'd
To godlike Worth each generdus bosom raise,
And prompt the sage's lore, and fire the poet's lays."
Such a system should not he lightly opposed ;
neither should any premeditated, systematic at
tempt be made to introduce a change into any one
of its most important departments ; since from such
an innovation must inevitably follow consequences
which would strike terror into the hardiest specu
lator upon human misery, would " make mad.the
guilty, and appal the free ; confound the ignorant,
and amaze indeed the very faculties of eyes and
ears."

31
I certainly do not intend to vex my own spirit,
and to pollute these pages With the fury of politi
cal controversy ; but I may perhaps be allowed to
remark, that the adherents to the established mo
narchical form Of government derive a very power
ful additional argument in favour of their opinion,
from the events which have recently taken place
in a neighbouring country. France, after running
the whole circle of human misery, after perform
ing all the revolutions Of society, from the wildest
and most lawless anarchy to the dreadful soul-be
numbing calm of individual despotism, foufid it
expedient, the moment that it endeavoured to fix:
and to affirm a code of laws, to have recourse to
the creation of a monarch : So that it should seen*
as if all her blood had been spilled, and all her trea
sures had been lavished, not to obtain a change of
measures, but of men.
On this most important and stupendous subject
it becomes even the pfofoundest politicians to speak
with diffidence and caution. But the christian,
whose soul soars on the wing of faith above this
vale of tears, listens with awe indeed, but not with
terror, to the fury of the tempest, and the howting
of the billows ; he bows, with all humility and con
fidence, before his God, and while he beholds the
tumult of confusion, says, it is the wind and storm
fulfilling His Word; the Word of the Lord our God,

32
who will swallow, up death in victory, and will wipe
away tears from off all faces, and take away the
rebuke of all his people from off the face of the
earth, for the Lord hath spoken it ; and it shall be
said in that day, Lo, this is our God, we have wait
ed for him, and he will save us; this is the Lord,
we have waited for him, we will be glad and re
joice in his salvation.
In every changing scene of life, in every sad vi
cissitude of mortal existence, in pain, in sickness
and in sorrow, in the hour of agony, and in the
moment of anguish, when friends forsake us, and
when foes pursue, we will lift up our voice on
high, and say with all becoming confidence and
trust : —

" Such is the destiny of all on earth,
So flourishes and fades majestic man.
Fair is the bud his vernal morn brings forth,
And fostering gales awhile the nursling fan.
O smile, ye heavens serene ; ye mildews wan,
Ye blighting whirlwinds spare his balmy prime,
Nor lessen of his life the little span.
Borne on the swift, tho* silent wings of time,
Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.
" And be it so. — Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn ;
But loftier souls that look beyond the tomb, ,
Can smile at fate, and wonder how they mourn.

33
Shall spring to these sad scenes no more return ?^
Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ?
Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn,
And spring shall soon her vital influence shed,
Again attune the grove, again adorn the mead.
" Shall I be left forgotten in the dust,
When Fate, relenting, lets the flow'r revive ?
Shall Nature's voice, to man alone unjust,
Bid him, tho' doom'd to perish, hope to live ?
Is it for this fair virtue oft must strive
With disappointment, penury, and pain ?
No— Heaven's immortal spring shall yet arrive,
And man's majestic beauty bloom again,
Bright thro' th' eternal year of Love's triumphant reign.'

Not but that it were most earnestly to be wished,
that some other mode of maintaining the national
church were had recourse to than that of their pre--
sent provision by tithes ; since it is a continued,
never-ending source of murmuring and of conten
tion between the clergymen and their parishioners;
and also, since it tends directly to discourage the
progress of agriculture, by deterring many a far
mer from cultivating his land; lest, when he has
incurred a considerable expence in endeavouring
to improve the soil, his rector, who has borne no
share either in the labour or the expenditure, should
come in and sweep away one-tenth of all the pro
duce of the ground so manured and ameliorated.

D

34
Certainly, neither of these consequences, which,
as the experience of many ages has now taught
us, flow necessarily from the system of decimation
(I had almost said), can tend to increase either the
moral or the physical strength of the British em
pire ; but it can require no very elaborate length
of argument to prove, that whatever measure bears
directly against the physical and the moral power
of a kingdom, whatever measure tends to relax the
sinews, and to loosen the loins of a people, must
be in itself radically and irremediably bad. It is a
consummation devoutly to be wished, that the
wisdom of the legislature would adopt some other
means of providing for the established church,
would find some other mode of support equivalent
in value as to emolument to that of tithes, and less
fertile in engendering mischief, and in alienating
the minds of the people from their moral teachers
and their religious instructors appointed by the go
vernment. Why not parcel out to them landed
estates throughout their respective districts; or
affix a certain quantity of corn, annually, as the
stipend of each living, since the price of corn al
ways bears a more steady and determinate value a$
to the continually shifting exigences of the times,
than does that of money ; or why does not the go
vernment take them at once upon the civil list, or
provide for them permanently, as it does for its
other officers and servants ?

35
I must be permitted to offer a yery few observa
tions on the subject of toleration. The very term
toleration appears to bear on its features the broad
and legible stamp of absurdity and of wickedness.
For what is its import ? even this : that a body of
men meet together and take upon themselves to
permit the Almighty God of heaven and earth to
be worshipped in the way which his creatures are
impelled to adopt by the influence of the divine
spirit, of the inward monitor, of the conscience,
which the Creator of the universe has himself im
planted in their hearts.
But shall man presume to take cognizance of
those things which belong only unto the Lord our
God ; for unto Him alone, from whom no secrets
are hidden, is given to know and to explore the
human heart ?
The duty of the civil magistrate is marked out
by clear and precise limits, is determined by accu
rate and distinctly defined boundaries ; it is in-
cutribent on him vigilantly to watch over the tem
poral welfare of the people, and to prevent or pu
nish any inroads made upon their social interests
and happiness : but faith, merely as such, can
never endanger the temporal welfare of the com
munity. If a set of fanatics were very devoutly to
believe in the everlasting damnation of all their
D2

3(3
civil rulers, it would not one whit affect their social
safety and interest ; while confined to mere belief,
it would neither shake the monarch from his throne,
nor lay his princes low in the dust ; for what rela
tion is there between the cause and the effect ;
how can my believing that a man is to be eternally
punished, operate towards destroying or lessening
his physical or his civil power and influence ? un
less, indeed, I am prompted by my belief to endea
vour, by some overt act, to diminish or to ruin his
social happiness; but, then, it is no longer the
faith in me, it is the practice, which produces the
mischief, and I ought to be punishable for that
practice, which is the parent of the crime, not for
the mere belief, which is entirely harmless, and
rather deserving of compassion than of vindictive,
cruelty and persecution.
Indeed, I am always apt to suspect that those
who persecute others merely on account of some
difference from those of the established national
church, in the forms and modes of external wor
ship, have really no regard whatever far religion,
but merely seek to gratify their own lust of pride
and power, which would not willingly permit any
created being to presume openly and ostensibly to
deviate from the path which they themselves con
descend to tread, but would throw the chain of
their tyrannic sway round the human heart, and

37
bind, in the fetters of despotism, the pure ethereal
soul, whose breathings after eternity, whose aspira
tions of devotion and piety, are continually rising
in fumes of grateful incense before the throne of
the most high God.
The avowed, open, shameless audacity of atheism
is sooner tolerated by such bigoted, narrow-mind
ed politicians, than any mere doctrinal difference,
any mere external distinction as to the modes and
forms of religious worship from that which they
maintain. When Louis the Fourteenth said to the
Due d'Orleans, " Cousin, I must have you dis
charge such an officer of your household." " Why,
sire ?" asked the duke. " Because," replied the
king, " he is a jansenist, and my father confessor,
a very devout Jesuit, says, that I shall be eternally
damned if I shew any countenance to those hor
rible schismatics the jansenists ; therefore I must
insist upon it, that you discharge th\s officer fi'om
your household." "May it please your majes-
ty," rejoined the prince of the blood of the Bour
bons, " this officer, to whom you allude, is no jan
senist ; he believes neither in God nor Christ."
" If that be really the case," answered the king,'
" and the man is no jansenist, but only an atheist,
you may still keep him, for he will make a very
good officer of your household."
D3

38
In these days of liberal and of enlightened po
licy, indeed, the spirit of persecution, on account
of the difference of religious opinions, is in a great
measure allayed ; I pray God that it might speedily
be for ever extinguished. But we cannot forget
those diabolical cruelties inflicted on the dissenters
of all denominations, Cajvinists, Friends, &c. which
have stamped a stain of indelible infamy on the
memory of some of our British monarchs who lived
in the times that are past.
I most earnestly request, that nothing which I
have said may be misunderstood as tending to cast
the least imputation of insincerity on the Friends^
in bearing the testimony of their conscience against
the payment of tithes. Every religious scruple de
mands the utmost tenderness and respect, and,
by a truly and benevolent mind, will always have
its claim acknowledged and allowed. I only mean
to observe that, merely as a politician, as one who
wishes to promote the civil happiness, the social
influence and power of the people, I cannot but
lament that the Friends have adopted an expedient,
as to the nonpayment of tithes, so utterly inade
quate to carry the proposed aim and end into full
effect. They positively refuse to pay the tax,
which, as subjects of the British empire, at least
that part of it called England and Ireland, they are

39
in all civil duty bound to pay towards the support
of one of the most important branches of the Bri
tish government ; yet they suffer their goods and
chattels to be distrained to much more than the
amount of the tax required for the maintenance of
the national clergy. By which means two pur
poses, very far from being'beneficial in themselve^
or in their consequences, are effected ; first, that
by paying a greater tax than is necessary, by
lessening their physical power, by shortening that
length of the great lever of this world which they
possess, they diminish their circle of moral power,
by decreasing their means of doing actual good to
their fellow-creatures in relieving the wants of the
distressed, in raising the afflicted mourner from the
dust, in being a father to the fatherless, and a hus
band to the widow ; secondly, that they indirectly
encourage vice, by giving an opportunity to men'
of the lowest habits and the most pernicious sen
timents, to exercise their trade of peculation and
of plunder, by holding out a lure and a bait to the
blood-hounds that growl in the subordinate kennels
of legal, justice to snuff the scent of blood, to fang
the flesh, and to batten upon the entrails of their
prey.

t>4

40

SECT. VIII.
On the Ministry of the , Friends.
BARCLAY, in his tenth proposition, with that
discernment of the true spirit of Christianity, which
seldom or never forsakes him, defines the church
to; be the society, gathering, or' company, of those
whom the universal or catholic spirit hath called
from all the four corners of the earth to sit down
in the kingdom of heaven with Abraham, with
Isaac, and with Jacob. Hepcc the blessings of
salvation by Christ are offered to all the human
race, of whatever soil, clime, or denomination,
(though perhaps some of them may be clogged
and burdened with superfluous formalities, and
obscured by the darkness of superstition) if they
seek in all simplicity, and singleness of heart, to
do justly, to love mercy, and walk humbly with
their God. All this tendency towards good is
effected by the Holy Spirit enlightening their
hearts and making them the temple of worship
most acceptable to the Almighty,
But, in order to shew forth' their faith by visible
and sensible effects, and to glorify God before
their follow men, it is necessary that the believers
be gathered together into some outward commu-

41
nity of fellowship, in order to bear a testimony to
the merits of the gospel, that. God be not left
without a witness upon earth, and also that by fre
quent exercise and intercourse with those who
are similarly disposed to religious habits, their own
belief in revelation may be strengthened, and their
good-will towards men may be augmented and
extended. In order to become a member of the church, a
human being must receive the illumination of the
Holy Spirit, and must enrol himself in the records
of some outward, visible assembly ; he must ap
pertain to some particular gathered church, for
the purposes of strengthening individual and col
lective devotion, and also for promoting social har
mony and intercourse among men. This enrol
ment, however, in any particular sect or denomi
nation of the christian church, does not necessarily
imply either a greater or a less degree of pure
religion existing in that sect than in any other.
The whole church of Christ consists of all true
believers, of all who, guided by the influence of
the Holy Spirit, seek to lead a pious and a godly
life; but as the pursuits, and dispositions, and un
derstandings, and views of men must be almost
endlessly diversified, according to the peculiarities
of each existing circumstance, of course they will
be divided into many different outward visible

42
churches, or persuasions, separated indeed from
each other by certain ostensible forms and cere
monies, but all united together by the same spirit
of universal love and of christian charity, and ail
travelling on together towards the same high mark
and calling of perfection and of happiness.
A minister of the gospel must be a minister of
the Spirit; a position of which there can be no
doubt, for if man can obtain a knowledge of reve
lation by no other means than the operation of
the Spirit, how is he to teach that to others which
he himself does not know ?
If, then, a minister be influenced by the Spirit,
he<must shew forth this divine influence to men
by outward works, the only means by which it can
be made cognizable to the senses of man ; he
must be blameless as the steward of God ; not self-
willed, not sopn angry, not given to wine, no striker,
not given to filthy lucre; but a lover of hospita
lity, a lover of good men, sober, just, holy, tem
perate; holding fast the faithful word as he has
been taught, that he may be able by sound doc
trine both to exhort and to convince the gain-
sayers. If once the existence of the Holy Spirit be al
lowed, arid that its influence (according to the

43
observations made above in the 4th section, as to
the nature of faith) is not reducible under the con
trol of reason, it will necessarily follow, that no
one, whether male or female, old or young, can
be precluded from preaching, that is, in other
words, from obeying the impulse of that divine
inward monitor, which prompts the person on
whom it immediately acts, to impart the words of
knowledge and of truth to/ the surrounding audi
ence; for by what charter does human weakness
claim the privilege of contradicting and opposing
the agency of the Almighty ?
I beg that I may not be misunderstood as now
touching at all on those ecclesiastical bodies which
I consider entirely as the children of political crea
tion ; I wish, in the question immediately before
us, to confine my attention entirely to the qualifi
cations and duties of a minister of the gospel ac
cording to the tenets of the Friends,
Barclay admits the lawfulnessof allowing to the
ministers of the gospel a sufficient maintenance,
food, and raiment, convenient for them; a position
which no honest man will deny, for surely the spi
ritual as well as the carnal labourer is worthy of
his hire. The apologist then proceeds at consi
derable length to shew the necessity of preaching
without hire, and inveighs with some warmth

44
ao-ainst tithes : but as on this subject I delivered
my opinion freely in the preceding section, there
is no occasion to enter again upon its discussion.
Barclay gives an admirable summary of the qua
lifications of a true minister, towards the .close
of his tenth proposition, when he, says, we (the
Friends) are for a holy, spiritual, pure, and living
ministry, where the ministers are called, qualified,
ordered, acted, and influenced in all the steps of
their ministry by the Spirit of God.
From the above very brief view of the ministry
of the Friends, as it is to be collected from Bar
clay, it must manifestly appear, that their tenets,
as to this point, most admirably coincide with the
doctrines of the scriptures. It only remains for
me to shew, that their ministerial system, as an
ecclesiastical body, as a part of their political ar
rangement, is conducted with order and propriety.
Perhaps those who have paid particular atten
tion to Barclay's account of what he calls the
unavoidable mischiefs resulting from a division of
the people into clergy and laity, will be somewhat
surprised at my asserting, that the Friends have a
separate ecclesiastical order of men in their Society.
But surely a moment's reflection will teach us,
that no society can possibly exist in which the in-

45
structOrs of religion and the instructed do not
make two distinct classes of people; for all cannot
be teachers, all cannot prophesy, all cannot be
apostles, all cannot speak with tongues, some must
be hearers, some must be learners and disciples,
Now it matters not as to what peculiar form or
mode, either of creating or of regulating these ec
clesiastics, takes place in any given religious sect,
so that there are some certain fixed rules of polity
by which they are guided.
The Friends, like every other sect of the chris
tian church, has its teachers and its hearers; they
differ, indeed, from the Society of Lutherans and
Calvinists, and, in good truth, from all other sects,
in their mode o£-'ministerial ordination; they do
not adopt the form prescribed by the church of
England, nor by those of theCalvinist persuasion;
but yet they have recourse to some method of as
certaining who shall or shall not be priests, for
surely they do not permit every one lightly, and at
his own discretion, to assume the sacred and re
sponsible office of a minister of the gospel, with
out trying and examining whether or not they are
fitted to discharge so important and awful a duty.
It might be objected, that they permit any one
whom the Spirit prompts and impels to preach, to
be a minister, that they do not clothe their priests

46
in a distinct and separate garb, and that they do
not allow them any fixed annual stipend or salary;
to which I answer, that all these are nothing more
than political regulations, adopted by a particular
society, differing in their forms from those of other
religious sects. Although they permit all to preach
whom the Spirit impels, yet they use some mode
of ascertaining who they are that the Spirit impels,
in the same manner as other societies of christians
exercise a discretionary power, as to whom they
will admit into their ministry. And as for their not
wearing any particular distinctive garb, surely that
cannot be deemed very material, since it cannot in
the least tend to prove that he who preaches the
gospel is not a minister of the gospel; the words
of truth and of revelation cannot be altered- in
their very being and essence, merely because one
man utters them in a brown, and another delivers
them in a black coat; neither can the not allowing
their ministers any steady, determinate annual
salary prove, that they have no ecclesiastical body
of men, for they readily give to their spiritual pas
tors, as occasion may require, free-will offerings of
their affection and esteem, in order to contribute
towards their convenient maintenance ; and surely
the quantity of apostolic zeal among a people can
never be measured by the precise annual revenue
afforded to the spiritual teachers of that people.

47
The only question is, whether or not there be
among the Friends any hearers, any disciples, any
who are not teachers of the divine and moral truths
of the gospel; and whether or not there be any
among the Friends who, are teachers and ministers
of the revealed religion ; and whether or not these
ministers and teachers are subject to any fixed
rules and laws ordained and established by the
Society; for if there are such ministers, and such
disciples, there must exist in the society of Friends
two distinct and separate orders of people, the ec
clesiastics and the laity. That there is such an
order of men as ministers of the gospel among the
Friends, and that they are subject to certain rules
and laws ordained by the Society, I, now proceed to
shew, by references to the Book of Extracts.
The section intitled Ministers' and Elders, in
the Book of Extracts, plainly demonstrates, that
the spiritual teachers arriong the Friends are under
the political; guidance and regulation of the Society,
and that this political guidance is full of wisdom,
of benevolence, and of sound 'morality; it also
proves that the Society exercises a discretionary-
power as to whom they will suffer to be ministers,
and as to whom they will discharge from the sacred
office. I fhall make very full references to the
Book of Extracts on this head, first to establish
rriy position of there being a distinct ecclesiastical

48
order of men among the Friends; and, secondly,
to shew that this spiritual body is regulated by or
dinances admirably calculated to promote all the
best interests of religion and of christian charity. •
The ministers, whom God hath gifted with a
public testimony for his name and truth, are de
sired to be diligent in visiting the heritage of God
in their meetings ; to have a godly care of judg
ing or contradicting one another in public meet
ings ; of shewing marks of division: amongst mi
nisters or others ; to have a care in all their preach
ing, writing, and conversing about the things of
God, to keep to the form of sound words, and
scripture terms,: not to pretend to be wise above
what is written, nor in such pretended wisdom go
about to explain the things of God in the words
which man's wisdom teaches.
This specimen alone is sufficient to shew, that
the Society considers their ministers to he subject
to their control, and to he in duty bound to obey
their decrees and ordinances} tbat is, in other
words, that they have an ecclesiastical system; re
gulated by a plan of human policy. But I shall
proceed to adduce more references to the Book of
Extracts for the purposes above mentioned.
The ministers arc also exhorted to Wait djK-

49
gently tipon and mind the Spirit of God, 'as the
foundation of all true knowledge and experience;
to be modest and decent in the exercise of their
ministry, and not to entangle themselves too much
with the affairs of this life, lest they neglect their
spiritual calling. And the hearers are also admo
nished not to be hasty in censuring the testimonies
delivered by the ministers, lest they err in passing
a mistaken judgment on the doctrine of their
preachers. The ministers are also advised to live in har
mony a'nd peace with the monthly meetings, to
which they belong; and be ready to hear and re
ceive advice from such their meetings, as well as to
teach and to instruct. — Note, this is a very whole
some regulation, and must necessarily tend to pro
mote the diffusion of religious knowledge among
the Society, by calling into full exercise the senti
ments of devotion kindled in the hearts both of
the priest and the disciple.
The monthly meetings are advised to take great
care in giving certificates to those who travel, to
prevent the uneasiness which sometimes falls on
the church froma weak and an unskilful ministry:
and the elders are desired, when they see Occasion,
to advise ministers to be very prudent in their con
duct, not to be busy-bodies, nor meddle with fa-
E

50
mily or personal affairs, in which they are not
concerned, or where their aid is not required; to.
be tender of each other's reputation, not given to
slander, and, when their service in the ministry is
over, to return to their habitations, and exercise
all reasonable and prudent care over their own
domestic ceconomy : and the elders of every meet
ing are required to watch over all young ministers,
to advise and help them, nourishing what is right,
and discouraging every thing unbecoming in the
ministry. All ministers in their religious meetings are re
quired to wait in humble reverence for the influ
ence of the word of life, not to move in acts of
devotion in their .own will, but patiently wait for
the enlivening power of the divine Spirit : and all
j Friends, who travel in the work of the ministry,
with the unity and approbation of their respective
meetings, must be careful not to countenance any
imposers (in the ministry), but advise them to re
turn to their habitations and callings.
Those who are rightly concerned in the minis
try, are required to watch over their own spirit,
and not be hasty in censuring the conduct of their
hearers j but shew forth their faith by love and
kindness, and by administering spiritual strength
and consolation to the churches which they visit :

51
and above all it is required, that none offer them
selves as preachers, in any meetings of Friends,
who are not themselves faithful against the pay
ment of tithes, and in observing the other branches
of the Society's christian testimony.
Note, here we have at once a decisive proof
that the Friends erect a human tribunal, which
determines as to the propriety or impropriety of
any one's claim to be a minister of the gospel. If
they do not steadily refuse the payment of tithes,
this human tribunal pronounces that they are not
called by the spirit of God to preach the word of
life ; that is, in other words, they have a certain
mode of ordaining ministers, a regular compliance
with which mode every one must shew forth in his
own conduct, or he is not admitted into the body
of the priesthood. It is no valid objection to say,.
that the Friends admit all those into the ministry,
whom God inspires, if they take upon themselves
to pronounce who those are whom God inspires:
it is, in fact, nothing more nor less than what
every other sect of the christian church does,
namely, to lay down certain rules and ordinances,
- the strict observance of which is absolutely re
quired from all those who wish to be enrolled
amongst the fraternity of ecclesiastical teachers
and preachers in that sect. But to proceed-—

E 2

32
All Friends who travel in the Work Of the mi
nistry are particularly advised to discourage all
scandal and defamation, and to keep their hearts.
pure and spotless before God and man : and all
elders and sensible solid friends are desired to
watch over all young candidates for the ministry,
that each may speak the language of truth, and
not travel and appoint meetings too soon. The
ministers, as standing in a more conspicuous point
of view than the private members, are particularly
advised to be diligent in their attendance at all
the meetings for solemn worship, and the disci
pline of the church ; and, as the ministry of the
gospel cometh not of man, but by the revelation
of Jesus Christ, the ministers are required not to
be mercenary nor interested, but freely to give, as
they have freely received.
The several monthly and quarterly meetings are
required to take care that none go forth to travel
in the ministry but such as are well approved at
home, by their own respective' monthly or quar
terly meetings, and are sound in doctrine, of good
conversation, and in unity with their own meet
ings ; and if any faithful friends or meetings be
burthened with the contrary, they must first ten
derly advise them, and if they receive not such
admonition, must therewith acquaint the meeting
to which such unskilful ministers belong.

53
v+Friends are desired to use all prudence not to be
imposed upon by Cheats or impostors, pretending
To the ministry, or otherwise, and, in case of doubt;
such persons must be called upon to shew what
certificate, they have; and the monthly and quari
terly meetings are desired to see that those who
travel in the work of the ministry do go in the
unity of the meetings to which they belong, and
with certificates therefrom, and that the young
ministry be carefully watched over to see that they
walk wisely and humbly.
The Society also enjoins the observance of the
apostolic advice—" Lay hands suddenly on no man;"
for injudicious encouragement hath tended to pro
mote an unsound ministry in some places. And
if any person, appearing as a minister, shall give
cause of dissatisfaction to Friends, in doctrine, be-'
haviour, or conversation, the person so offending
is to be dealt with privately in a gospel spirit or
manner; and if this produce not the desired ef
fect, recourse must be had to the monthly meet
ing to which the offender belongs, and the affair
settled with all possible expedition. The same
means must be employed of silencing any minister
who is troublesorhe, in any county, whether he acts
as a minister at home in his own meeting, or tra
vels abroad to disturb other churches and congre
gations. ,
E3

54
If any one, having once been a public minister,
shall be publicly censured and disowned for con
duct repugnant to the spirit of the Society, and be
afterwards again, upon repentance, admitted into
membership, such admission shall not necessarily
entitle him or her to work in the ministry; but he
or she must wait till the monthly meeting to which
he or she belongs shall deem fitting, before he or
she appears in the capacity of a minister; and if
any appear to be, too forward in wishing to take
upon themselves the office of the ministry, the
meeting to which they belong is desired to give
them proper advice upon such their haste to ap
pear, before the scandal, occasioned by their for
mer inconsistency of conduct, is sufficiently worn
away by subsequent good behaviour.
The morning meeting of ministers in London,
and every other meeting of ministers, have aright,
as they see meet, to advise, exhort, and rebuke
any one who travels in the work of the ministry,
without being accountable for the same to any
monthly or quarterly meeting. But neither the
morning nor any other meeting of ministers have
power to disown any minister, or other person, in
any capacity whatsoever, this solely belonging to
the monthly^ quarterly, half-yearly, or yearly meet
ings

55
It appears, then, from the facts collected from
the Book of Extracts, that the Friends have, first,
a separate order of people, called ministers, from
those who are known by the name of hearers ; se
condly, that they have a human tribunal, which is
empowered to decide upon the merits of the can
didates for the sacred office of the ministry ; and,
thirdly, that their ecclesiastical polity, or mode of
regulating and governing their spiritual teachers,
is in exact conformity to the precepts of the gos
pel, and most admirably adapted to the diffusion
of all true and genuine religion, benevolence, bro
therly love, and pure unadulterated morality,
throughout all the departments of the society, both
teachers and learners. ¦
sect. ix.
On the Worship of the Friends.
BARCLAY, in his eleventh proposition, thus
defines the duty of man towards God*. — First, a
holy conformity to the pure law and light of God,
so as both to forsake evil, and to be found in the
practice of the eternal and moral precepts of righ
teousness and of duty ; and, secondly, rendering
that reverence, honour, and adoration to God,
which He requires and demands of us.
The second of these heads includes worship,
E4

56
which is not limited to times,, places, or persons,
yet set times and places are indispensably neces
sary for the purposes of strengthening and con
firming religious habits in the individual, and of
promoting the doctrines of Christianity through
the community at large. Since man is so consti
tuted as to receive all his external impressions
through his organs of sensation, it is necessary for
him to have recourse to outward, sensible means
of devotion, in order to receive religious consola
tion and strength in his own heart, from observing
the devout conduct of his fellow men ; to impart to
them, by the same means, that strength and con
solation which he himself receives ; and also to
bear an open, undisguised, and avowed testimony
in favour of revelation, that God and his Christ be
not left without a witness before men on earth.
Again, since the precepts of revealed religion con
tain doctrines of morality the most pure and unal
loyed, public worship, by bringing these doctrines
continually home to men's business and bosoms,
in the strongest and in the most forcible manner,
incites men to, discharge all the moral duties, to
fill up the full measure of all the great charities of
father, husband, son and brother, in singleness of
heart, in simplicity and in truth. And also, it
must render men better subjects and citizens, the
firmest bulwarks and supporters of their country ;
for moral restraint is the only sure foundation of

57
all public virtue, happiness, and power, since the
community must be made up of a given number
of individuals ; and if each individual discharges
the great duty of moral restraint, it follows of
course, that the whole community itself must be
full of virtue and full of power, even of that power
which dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High,
and abideth under the shadow of the Almighty,
which shall not be afraid for the terror by night,
nor for the arrow that flieth by day, nor for the
pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the
destruction that wasteth at noon day. #
Barclay goes on to say (and I know not what
christian will wish to contradict his assertions),
that men should assemble themselves together to
meet with the Lord, vto wait for the influence of
his Spirit, to preach as they find themselves moved
and impelled by the influence of this Spirit. It
does not appear, from any express command in
Scripture, that the first day of the week, more
than any other, hath an inherent holiness in it 5
but it is necessary that there be some fixed, deter
minate time set apart for christians to meet toge
ther in worship and adoration of their Maker,
that men may have a breathing-time from the
corrupting influence which too close an attention
to the affairs of this world is apt to exercise over
the human heart ; that those who, by their situa-

58
tion in life, are doomed to perpetual bodily toil,
should have a little respite from their labour and
fatigue ; and that the cattle and the beasts of the
field may be eased from their burdens, and loosed
from their yoke : that it appears that the apostles
and the primitive christians used this day for the
purpose of religious worship ; and, also, that it is
the day appointed for the solemn assembling toge
ther of all the saints before God, by every form
and every mode of governmental institution which
prevails throughout the christian world.
That mode of worshipping God, which, I ap
prehend, is peculiarly confined to the Friends, and
known by the term of watching in silence upon
the Lord, "demands the most serious attention of
every wise and of every good man.- Barclay thus
describes the advantages of silent meetings :-—
" When people are gathered thus together, not
merely to hear and depend upon men, but are all
inwardly taught to stay their minds upon the Lord,
and wait for his appearance in their hearts, the
forward working of the spirit of man is hindered
from mixing itself with the worship of God; and
the form of this worship is so naked and void of
all outward and worldly splendour, that all occa
sion for man's wisdom to be exercised in supersti
tion and idolatry, hath no lodging here ; but from
the inward quietness and retiredness of the mind,

59
the witness of God ariseth in the heart, and the
light of Christ shineth, so that the soul sees its
own condition."
I must confess, that the silent worshipping of
the Almighty always filled my soul with impres
sions the most awful and sublime ; and. I was al
ways peculiarly delighted with that portion of the
scripture, which says — " Be silent, O all flesh, be
fore the Lord, for He is raised up out of his holy
habitation." All those who are in the least habituated to the
examination of their own minds, know full well that
numberless sensations swell their souls, to which
no words can give adequate utterance. The senti
ments excited in the heart by reading an exquisite
poem, or listening to a splendid display of elo
quence, are too pure, too ethereal, too extatic, to
be clothed in the array of language. Arid still
less competent are words to express the fervCnt
glow of the heart, when warmed by the ray of
friendship, or lighted by the flame of pure and
unadulterated love. But, above all, is language
weak and faint to convey those sincere, and ar
dent, and holy aspirations after a blessed eternity,
which sweep over the soul of every christian that
bows before the throne of God, and reposes on the
merit and mediation of a Saviour and Redeemer.

6o
Such sensations, and sueh emotions, could find no
utterance, even from that prophet whose lips the
seraph touched with living fire.
The mere mechanical labour of calling into exer
cise the vocal organs distracts the attention of the
soul, and impedes her flight when she is winging
her way to heaven.
But perhaps it might be objected, that although
raised and cultivated minds are able to experience
a bliss too exalted and extatic to be conveyed in
words, when they meditate in silence on their God
and all his wondrous works; yet that ignorant, un
educated people cannot reach these elevated heights
of intellectual happines, since their minds have not
a sufficient quantity of facts, of accumulated know
ledge, on which to meditate; and, without the
materials of thinking, how is the human mind to
cogitate with effect ?
To which I answer, that human reason cannot.
accurately explain and determine the mode by
which the spirit of God enlightens the hearts of
men ; neither does it become us to say, that un
lettered, untaught people cannot be empowered by
the divine will to meditate, for a long space of
time, on the glories of revelation, when we are
told that the gospel was first preached and propa,-

6i
gated by men without education and devoid of
learning; add to which, the whole society of Friends
have now, for several ages, borne the fullest tes
timony to the contrary ; for they have shewn that
they can meditate with effect on the things that
be of God, by (the only means which one human
being can shew to another) the fruits of a pious,
holy, and .benevolent conduct. It cannot, surely,
be esteemed as harsh or prejudiced in me to assert,
that the majority among the Friends are, compara
tively speaking, uneducated ; for, in the present
state of society, the greater portion of the mass of
the people in every community must, from their
being compelled to employ nearly the whole of
their existence in providing for the day that is pass
ing over them, remain unacquainted with the stores
of knowledge ; to them must the sources of litera
ture, and the depths of science, be as a spring shut
up and a fountain sealed : —
" For Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unrol ;
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul."
Not that I am an advocate for ignorance, as will
fully appear before I end this treatise.
I must, however, in justice to my subject, re
mark, in this place, that education amongst the

,62
Friends is, for the mdstpart, confined to what they
think useful alone ; and, considered in this point
of view, they may be said to be well educated, in
deed, far better than a given number of individuals
taken promiscuously out of the great mass of popu
lation. Even the lowermost classes of the Society
are taught all the common and useful branches of
knowledge, as reading, writing, and arithmetic, &c.
which is not always the case in-any other order of
the community ; and, with respect to every other
species of learning, they think that it trenches upon
that time and attention which ought to be-exclu
sively devoted to what they justly deem the highest
of all wisdom, even the revelation of the gospel.
Upon this, and sorne other subjects of equal im
portance, I propose to treat in a future part of the
present work.
Note, that I would just, in passing, observe, that
Barclay's similes of the Spirit, likening its opera
tions among silent Friends to a pump, combustible
matter, and a midwife, are calculated tot produce
sensations of a very different nature from that of
devotion, and to raise a smile very unlike that of
benevolence or of compassion.
The Friends profess to preach only when the
Holy Spirit, by its inward emotions, impels them

63
to give utterance to the words of truth. I know
not how those, who admit the existence of the
spirit of God, and its power of influencing the hu
man heart, can, with any decency, oppose this doc
trine. The Spirit acts upon the, heart of man
by means not cognizable to human reason ; how,
then, can we take upon us to decide, that we will
resist the operations of this Spirit, or control its
power, so as to order it to obey us, and be ready at
our call at certain stated times and places which
may best suit our convenience ?
As a christian, I cannot find a single argument
against the mode of worship adopted by the Friends:
as a politician, perhaps, and one who is in the habit
of calculating only upon the facts offered to his ex
perience, I should prefer a regular, systematic plan
of audibly teaching and instructing the people in
their religious and moral duties ; because the minds
of ignorant people certainly are, as to all human
observation and experience, not so apt to be touched
and influenced by the wild wanderings of their
own untutored minds, as by a forcible appeal made
to their senses of sight and hearing, by the im
passioned gestures, and the animated tones of a
preacher of the gospel, who is really earnest and
sincere in enforcing and explaining the great and
important precepts of revealed religion.

64
But even this opinion I offer With diffidence,
when I view the exemplary, moral conduct of the
Friends, considered as a large body of men, made
up of an almost endlessly diversified .variety of tem
pers and of dispositions. This great purity of con
duct, however, is attributable not only to the ex
cellence of their religious system, but also in a
great measure to their admirable plan of civil polity,
as we shall presently see when we come to treat of
them as a society governed by a peculiar code of
their own.
sect. x.
On Baptism.
ON this subject, as on every other doctrinal point
of religion, I shall be very brief, because, 1 must
confess, that I am not particularly interested in any
external forms and ceremonies appertaining to re
ligious worship ; neither, merely as such, do they
at all influence the conduct of the individual, and,
consequently, are of no importance, considered
with regard to their affecting the interests of the
community. Barclay, in his twelfth proposition,
takes much pains to prove that the outward wash
ing of the body with water cannot possibly cleanse
the heart; that true baptism is the being baptised

65
with the spirit of Christ, of which the baptism of
John was merely a figure and a type.
There can be no doubt that, according to all
human experience, washing the body or the face
with water cannot cleanse the heart, for there is no
relation between the cause and the effect ; but we
cannot possibly tell by what means the Almighty
chooses to bring about his ends ; and if it is a po
sitive command of God, we are in duty bound to
obey it,' whether we can or cannot reduce it to the
comprehension and the control of our reason. That
we ought to be baptised with the spirit of Christ,
no believer in the gospel is disposed to deny ; the
Only question is, whether or not God has ordain
ed any ceremony of initiation into the christian
church, or any modes or forms of worship by which
He chooses us to shew forth the testimony of our
hearts for Him and his Son ? A question so im
portant as this it would be unbecoming in me to
attempt to decide ; I leave it to abler casuists, and
men more experienced in religious controversy, to
determine. With regard to the baptism of John being merely
a type and a figure of that inward, spiritual bap
tism of Christ, I have nothing to object ; for I pro
fess mysplf not to be very expert in discovering
figures ?nd types ; only this I know, that if we
F

66
once admit this doctrine of types and figures, It
seems not easy to ascertain the line where we are
to stop, or to say why we are not to explain away
every outward ordinance and mode of religious
worship, arid, making every form to flee away as a
shadow, confine ourselves wholly to that inward,
spiritual worship, which so peculiarly renders the
heart of man the temple of the living God. This
is a persuasion particularly alluring and fascinating
to all those who indulge in the bliss of devout me
ditation, who commune with their own?h£arts in
their chambers, and are still.
Into the present discussion I shall not enter:
those who wish to see this subject ably treated, I
refer to Barclay, whose objections to the sprinkling
of the face, or immersing the body in water, by
way of purifying the soul, are not easily removed,
and whose reasons for the Friends adopting an
inward, spiritual baptism, cannot be readily over
turned. SECT. XI.
On- the Communion.
- THIS section also will detain1 me but a very
short time, for the reasons above given,, that I am
particularly anxious not to lose myself in the wind-

67
ings of polemical disputation. Barclay, in his thir
teenth proposition, attempts to prove that the com
munion of the body and blood of Christ is inward
and spiritual, of. which the breaking of bread by
Christ with his disciples was a figure, which they,
who had received the substance, used in the
church for a time,' only for the sake of the weak,
even as abstaining from things strangled, and from
blood, washing one another's feet, and anointing
the sick with oil; all which are commanded with
no less solemnity than the eating of bread and
drinking of wine at the time of communicating.
These positions Barclay maintains with all the
dexterity of an experienced controversialist; he
applies his texts of scripture with great skill, and
from them, as his data, draws very ingenious de
ductions and inferences; to all which I have no
thing to answer, but that it behoves every one who
calls Christ Lord, to be thoroughly satisfied in his
own conscience, before he rejects the ceremony of
communicating at the altar, that our Saviour did
not positively ordain some external visible mode of
sacramental remembrance of his death and resur
rection; an opinion which has very generally pre
vailed; for I apprehend that the Freinds are the
only religious sect of the christian church who do
not adopt some outward mode of shewing their
communion with the body and blood of Christ.
F2

6s
And certainly this cannot be denied, that, in out
present imperfect state, we stand in continual need
of assistance in our devotion, from frequent for
cible appeals made to our senses, a doctrine on
which chiefly rests the necessity of public worship;
for if each individual could keep his heart raised
to as high a strain of religion by mere solitary, iso
lated meditation, without imparting and receiving
spiritual aid and strength by the frequent assem
bling together with his brethren in unity of belief,
of what avail would be all our churches, builded
with hands, when every man would carry about
with hirh in his own heart a temple, not made with
hands, sufficiently wide and ample for the full ex
ercise of his religious offerings at the shrine of
the most High God ?
SECT. XII.
Review of the religious System of the Friends.
I FEEL an inexpressible delight in anticipating
the joy and the satisfaction which every christian,
who might have laboured under a mistake as to
the religious tenets of the Friends, must experience,
when he sees from the preceding brief, but (as far
as I know, if I am wrong in any particular, I re
quest, I court, the exposition of any error) correct
and impartial sketch of their doctrines and pre-

69
cepts, as tried and measured by the standard of
the scriptures, that the Society is a burning and a
shining lamp, suspended in the church of Christ
to light those who wander in darkness and in the
shadow of death, to that fair and blissful region,
whose ways are ways of pleasantness, and all whose
paths are peace.
We have seen, that on all the great foundation-
stones of the rock of ages, the Friends stand firm
and unmoved ; that their belief in the fall of man,
the redemption of the human race by Christ, the
influence of the Holy Spirit, the sacred mystery
of the Trinity, the truth of the scriptures, and the
necessity of a pure, devout, and holy life, is steady
and unshaken ; that their mode of worship is pe
culiarly calculated to affect the heart of the true
believer in revelation with impressions of the God
head, the most awful and sublime.
Their difference in opinion on the subject of
tithes from that of the established church, I
cannot persuade myself to look upon in any reli- '
gious point of view. I know not that it contra
dicts the doctrines of the sacred writings, unless
it be, that it militates against that saying of our
blessed Master, " Render unto Caesar the things
that are Cajsar's," a saying which certainly appears
\ F3

70
to enjoin obedience to the decrees and ordinances
of the civil power. But if the non-payment of
tithes be actually a matter of conscience with the
Friends, and the Holy Spirit really directs them not
to contribute towards the support of a national
church, far be it from me to cast any blame. upon
them for obeying God rather than" man ; I can
only lament, that they are not able to convince the
civil magistrate of the exact state of their condi
tion, in order that some means might be had re
course to of easing their religious burden, without
at the sarne time impairing the bulwarks, and' sap
ping the foundation of our invaluable constitution.
I have nothing farther to add on the religious
system of the Friends, than the prayer of Father
Paul for the institutions of his country, ESTO
PERPETUA: may it for ever continue as a light
to lighten the Gentiles, and to be the glory of the
christian church.
I am informed by the most respectable autho
rity, that the principles of the Friends are gaining
ground rapidly, and are very widely diffused in
France ; so much so, that the major part of the
•French people, who are inclined to be serious, pro
fess the religious opinions of the Society.

71

CHAPTER II.
THE INFLUENCE OF THE TENETS OF THE FRIENDS
ON THEIR CONDUCT AS INDIVIDUALS.
SECT. I.
On Conversation.
THE advantages of well regulated conversation
must be manifest to all who consider that words
are one of the chief means by which one man im
parts good or evil to another. Out of the abun
dance of the heart the mouth speaketh; and it is
the earnest wish of every benevolent being, that
the abundance of the human heart shall be conti
nually productive of good.
In order to converse profitably, the mind must
ba pure and holy, well imbued with the precepts
of religion and the dictates of morality, which will
always ensure conversation at least innocent, and
void of mischief. But something more than this
is required from a being so highly gifted as is man;
the wonderful capabilities of the human- intellect
should be always employed in endeavouring to add
to the physical and moral strength of the comma*
' F4

72
nity, to exalt man in the dignity of thinking be
ings, to lift him up nearer to the source of all
wisdom and of all perfection. It is not enough
for men that their discourse is merely not vicious,
that it is only harmless, it should also be full of in
struction, and full of benefit; it should at once
gratify all the better feelings of the heart, and call
into exercise all the higher powers of the under
standing., In order to acquire the power of conversing with
effect, it will be necessary to attend to and to avail
ourselves of the modes by which knowledge (the
only solid materials for legitimate conversation)
can be obtained; which are simply these, first, the
observation of the objects of the material world ;
secondly, reading; thirdly, thinking; fourthly, con
versation. By an attention to the first great means of ac
quiring knowledge, namely, the observation of the
objects of the material world, the mind is fur
nished with a perpetual and a never-ceasing spring
of information and of pleasure. To a mind pro
perly organized, every work of nature and of art
affords a subject upon which its faculties may be
innocently and usefully employed, and all its
powers of perception heightened and enlarged.

73
The necessity of acquiring a habit of attending
to the obj^ts around us is not sufficiently incul
cated into our minds during the period of our edu
cation; a circumstance to be most sincerely re
gretted .ace, through this neglect, we are pre
vented from availing ourselves of a source of in
struction that is always present to us, and to derive
advantage from which, we need only call into ex
ertion our senses.
It is, indeed, deeply to be regretted, that men
do not accustom themselves to regard with attend
tion all that passes around them, for by that atten
tion being ever present do we acquire versatility
of mind and variety of knowledge, from subjects
the most exalted and dignified down to the most
minute researches of the human intellect. If I
find a man without this versatility of mind (al
though he might be well acquainted with some
single department of knowledge) and incapable of
conversing satisfactorily on general subjects, I must
be compelled to set him down as possessed of a
slow mind. A capacious mind is seldom or never
guilty of inattention ; and how can such a mind be
allowed to range through the busy haunts of men,
or to wander amidst the exhilarating scenes of
nature, without acquiring an ample accession of
hew ideas at every step of its progress ? A powerful
mind is always inquisitive, and consequently must

7:4
have its attention always upon the alert, as to, sur
rounding objects, however boundless may be their
extent and their variety.
In every department of society, from the impe
rial dome to where the svvain rears the lone cottage
in the silent dale, may man derive benefit from.
this .primary source of knowledge, for the works,
of God are open to all his creatures, and nature
smiles -as sweet, I ween, to shepherds as to kings.
By the habit of attending to, and of contemplating
the greater and the nobler productions of nature,
the mind feels a consciousness of her own inde^
structibleand immortal po,wers,and finds it difficult
to stoop from the elevated heights of virtue to the
degradation of low and, of vicious pursuits.
It cannot be expected, that I should enter at
large or minutely into this very interesting and im
portant subject in the present little treatise; it is
enough for me now merely to offer a few hints
upon which the minds of others may exercise
their thoughts; and happy shall I deem myself if
any suggestion of mine might save even a single
human being from the miseries inseparably atten
dant upon idleness, ignorance, and vice, by sub
stituting in their stead a taste for pure and rational
enjoy"ment, and teaching the soul to look abroad
for the materials of. happiness in the contempla-

75
tion of the productions of her Creator, so'that not
a plant shall grow, from the cedar of Lebanon to
the daisy on the ground, not a hill shall rear its
head, or a valley be spread out, or the boundless
expanse of the deep heave its swelling bosom, but
shall contribute at once to her instruction and
delight, shall teach her to love her fellow beings,
and to adore her God.
To the vain, the indolent, the sensualist, and the
embrutified worldling, I would say, in the words
of one of the sweetest bards that ever breathed the
soothing strain,
" Canst thou forego the pure ethereal soul,
In each fine sense so exquisitely keen,
On the dull couch of luxury to roll,
Stung with disease, and stupified with spleen?
Fain to implore the aid of Flattery's screen,.
Even from thyself thy loathsome heart to hide,
The mansion then no more of joy serene,
Where fear, distrust, malevolence abide,
And impotent desire and disappointed pride.
" O how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ;
The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp sf groves, and garniture of fields ;
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,
t All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven,
O how canst diou renounce and hope to be forgiven?"

76
From the second great source of human know
ledge, reading, we obtain and gather together a
mass of facts and of events, upon which the mind
may be employed, in order accurately to ascertain
the relative situation which one individual holds to
another in society. It is utterly needless for me to
consume many words in pointing out the advan
tages which accrue individually and collectively to
the community, from an attention to the calmer
pleasures of the pen and of the page. Literary
employments almost necessarily exclude the ap
proaches of vice and of dissipation, and while they
strengthen and expand all the powers of the mind,
they also improve and ameliorate the heart.
The third source of knowledge, thinking, is
most essentially necessary to enable us to 'profit
by the ideas which we have received from observ
ing the material world, and to avail ourselves of
the mass of facts that we have collected' by read
ing. It is much to be wished, that those who take
upon themselves the high and the responsible office
of instructors of youth, would pay particular at
tention to this very important branch of education,
and early teach their pupils to think, a most de
sirable end, the accomplishment of which, how
ever, whatever they may imagine, I can assure
them, will never be taught by a surly frown, a
magisterial tone, or a cruel lash. >

77
It is upon these foundations, and these founda
tions alone, that the superstructure of extensively
useful conversation can be built. When an ob
servation always alive, and a perception quick
ened and sharpened by continual exercise, has
furnished the mind with an abundant store of
images, when accurate and extensive reading has
given to her an ample range of facts, and when
reflection has enabled her to arrange and to digest
these ideas and these facts, she is prepared to profit
by the last and the greatest source of human
knowledge, conversation ; which, by compelling
the minds both of the speakers and of the hearers,
to balance, to poise, to marshal, and to put forth
all their acquired powers, for the purposes of
alternate improvement and of reciprocal praise,
rouses all their faculties into exertion, up to the
full measure of their capacity.
The truth is, that unless we are occasionally
called upon to deliver our sentiments on any given
subjects of inquiry, we are very apt not to put our
ideas into words, and thus1 form very imperfect and
erroneous notions on many of the most important
topics of human investigation; but the collision
which an interchange of thought between able
and well informed men creates, demands the most
intense exertion of thought, in order accurately to
comprehend the point in question, ere the mind

78
ventures to give her opinion upon it in words be
fore judges well qualified to determine, and, per
haps, not inclined to decide with mercy upon her
pretensions to that, which is the highest praise and
the proudest boast of man, exalted arid command
ing intellect.
Neither is the mind conscious of the extent of
her powers till they are called into action by con
versation, till her energies are roused into exertion
by that intellectual collision which elicits the
sparks of knowledge and of truth, even as the
beams of the blessed sun give neither life, nor
light, nor heat, till they are reflected by the oppo-
sition of some interposing medium.
 . " For no man is the lord of any thing,
Tho' in him, and of him, there be much consisting,
Till he communicate his parts to others.
Nor doth he of himself know them for ought,
Till he behold them formed in the applause,
Where they are extended, which, like an arch, reverberates
The voice again, or, like a gate of steel
Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat."
That men do not very generally avail themselves
of the advantages of intellectual conversation must
be' readily allowed by every one who notices the
ordinary stream of discourse, even amongst those
who are given credit for having enlarged their

79
minds by cultivation, and having strengthened
their understandings by reflection.
If these four great sources of information and of
delight were generally explored with attention by
men, the whole face of human society would very
soon Wear a different aspect, and mankind would-
individually and collectively rise to a much higher
degree in the scale of dignity and of perfection ;
then no longer would truth and joy be exiled from
the habitation of man, nor all his favourite haunts
be polluted with tears and blood ; no longer would
the world be scarred and defaced by tyranny and
superstition, by avarice and oppression, which all
unite together in one infernal league, and bond of
horrid amity, to grind down the great mass of
mankind, to " cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of
war," to the desolation and the sweeping away of
half the human race; but it would smile like the
garden of Eden; plenty and peace would kiss each
other; love, and joy, and gentleness of heart, would
go hand in hand to cheer and to bless the inhabi
tants of the earth, and every man would enjoy the
comforts of security, a"nd the rapture of indepen
dence, under his own vine and under his own fig-
tree.

$0

SECT. II.
The Conversation of the Friends is decent and chaste.
ALL that propriety and decency can give of
praise to speech, the conversation of the Friends
demands. They are particularly guarded in their
expressions, and their words generally evince a
spirit tempered and chastened by the precepts of
religion and the dictates of morality. It is the
rare, the enviable praise of the Society, that seldom
or ever, from the lips of any of their members, is
heard the disgusting coarseness of obscenity, the
turbulence of vulgar merriment, the roar of obstre
perous brutality, the noise of quarrelling, or the
idiot-yell of drunkenness. The conversation of
the Friends is seldom such as to raise the blush of
pain, of shame, and of indignation, on the cheek
of delicacy.
In addition to the general stream of decency and
sobriety, which runs through their current of dis
course, the Friends have some few peculiarities of
speech which it may not be superfluous to slightly
notice. Their abhorrence from oaths, founded on
some texts of scripture, which it would not be easy
for those who advocate the cause of swearing to
refute or to explain away, is so well known by all in

81
this kingdom, that its propriety has been recognized
by the legislature, and the simple affirmation of
a Friend is permitted to be equivalent, in our courts
of justice, to the oath of a member of any other
religious sect in the British empire.
That the Friends, in their steadily refusing to
submit to the bondage of an oath, act in direct
conformity to the precepts of the gospel, cannot be
doubted by any who believe in these words of our
Saviour: — " But I say unto you, swear not at all ;
neither by heaven, for it is God's throne ; nor by,
the earth, for it is his footstool ; neither by Jeru
salem, for it is the city of the great king," &c. &c.
As for the custom of common swearing in ordi
nary discourse, there can be but one opinion :
every one must allow, that it is the most absurd,
beggarly, vile, and unproductive vice in all the
dark catalogue of human iniquities. I have gene
rally observed this deformity to prevail in the in
verse ratio of a man's understanding; a circum
stance of no very difficult solution ; for, in propor
tion to the weakness of a man's intellect, and the
scantiness of his knowledge, must he find himself
at a loss, both for ideas and for words, wherewith
to support a conversation for any length of time,
and therefore has recourse to the miserable expe
dient of stopping up all the gaps in discourse, made
G

82
by his want of sense, with a great variety of oaths
and curses ; hence, your thorough solid blockhead
contrives to eke out the barrenness of his brain, by
making his conversation consist of one part of pure,
unalloyed dulness, and the other two parts of abso
lute vice and degrading deformity, arrayed in the
hideous garb of cursing and swearing, oaths and
blasphemy. Whether or not human society, considered
merely in a political point of view, can be holden
together without the cement of oaths, is a question
of too much magnitude for me to discuss at pre
sent ; but this I may venture to assert, without
much fear of contradiction, that the frequency of
oaths in the British empire is an evil of too serious
a nature not to create alarm in the minds of all
those who fear God, and honour the image of his
Maker in their fellow-man.
Indeed, the custom of judicial swearing is now
become so prevalent, that perjury is considered as
of little more moment than a naked lie ; nay,
Lord Kaimes, in his Sketches of Mart, is hardy
enough to assert (after descanting on the number
less oaths which tide-waiters, custom-house-officers,
officers of excise, and many other subordinate
agents in the department of government, are re
quired- by their official duty to undergo, and the

83
consequent almost impossibility of their avoiding
perjury, at least every week of their lives), that a
mere penal oath is no moral duty, and that the
breaking it is no crime in the sight of God*
This position of Kaimes may, for aught I know
to the contrary, be deemed, by some soi-disant po
liticians, a very convenient doctrine ; but it would .
be well for mankind if the rulers of nations would
learn, that it is an evil of no light import to trifle
with the name of the Most High God, and that,
when once a disregard for truth is established and
sanctioned by law, all the great barriers of moral
duty are broken down, all the distinctions between
virtue and vice are levelled, all the flood-gates of
iniquity are lifted up, all the sinews of society are
weakened, all the links which bind man to man in
the compacted chain of mutual harmony and con
fidence are disrupted and torn asunder, all the
foundations of civil government are shaken, and
reeling vacillate on the verge of ruin's unfathomed
gulph which yawns beneath, and opens wide its
insatiable jaws to devour the victim of polluted and
of perjured policy.
Why cannot the great moral experiment of go
verning, without creating a high bounty for per
jury by ordaining a multiplicity of oaths, be tried
on a larger, a national scale, since it has now suc-
G2

84
ceeded so well among the Society of Friends for
many ages ? They suffer no oath to be sworn by
any of their members, and the foul stain of false
hood is much less perceptible on their political cha
racter, than on that of any other civil community
in the habitable globe.
I see no likelihood of any evil accruing from the
total disuse of oaths in our courts of judicature.
It is well known, that the positive word or assur
ance of every virtuous man is of equal validity with
his oath ; because an oath is merely used as an as
sertion more strongly expressed than affirmations
commonly are. A man cannot be enabled, merely
by swearing, to state any given incident with more
truth than by his affirmation without an oath, if he
really wishes to say that which is true. Since,
then, oaths are found necessary only to bind men
not supposed to be too much addicted to truth
(for tbe simple affirmation of Friends, from their
known integrity, has always proved of sufficient
force to bind their consciences), why cannot our
Courts of judicature, and other tribunals through
out the empire, establish a custom, requiring that,
in every instance where now an oath is exacted, or
may ever be deemed necessary, the declaration of
the party concerned shall be simply and concisely
stated- in writing, and signed with the name of
the avowant ; or printed forms of such declarations

85
may be always kept prepared, and signed, as occa
sion requires, by those whose testimony, allegiance,
&c. it is deemed necessary to examine or to make
manifest ? The breach of this declaration might
be punished in the same manner as perjury now is,
and the different officers concerned might have
their declaration-fees as they now have their shil
ling or two shillings for each oath which they ad
minister. The Friends entertain also a decided aversion
from titles of all sorts. Barclay, in his fifteenth
proposition, labours much to prove the sin and the
wickedness of calling a man by the name of sir,
your excellency, or my lord. With regard to the
moral evil of addressing a fellow-creature with
these and other appellations of a similar nature, I
leave it to abler casuists than myself to determine.
In a political point of view, the experience of all
ages has shewn, that titles and gradations of names
of honour have been of great utility in allcivilized
institutions. The desire of attaching the esteem
and the respect of men, or, in other words, honour
able fame and ambition, seems to be one of the
most universal incitements to human action : and
although the great lever of this world, money, in
sures to man an abundant portion of this distinc
tion which is at once so gratifying to every human
G3

86
heart, and consequently gives to him a large por
tion of actual power, since real power is directly as
the influence exercised over the opinions of men ;
yet few governments, or rather few nations (for it
must be the people at large who support the pecu
niary burdens of any state), could bear the grievous
expence of providing with land or money every
one whose services to the public had a claim upon
national gratitude. A cheaper method, therefore,
was found expedient, in order to establish a high
bounty for the noble rage of emulation, and to sti
mulate exalted ability into action, by holding up
certain prizes and rewards of ideal and phantasmal
glory : hence, governments have acquired the ha
bit of converting a simple, plain gentleman into a
knight, a lord, a marquis, or a duke, for the long
continued exertion of industry and talents employ
ed in labouring to promote the views and the ends
of the existing administration ; and thus impart to
a man whatever of additional power his title may
create to him, by extending his influence over a
wider circle of human opinion than his mere wealth,
or courage, or intellect, or virtue, could procure to
him. Barclay also takes much pains to prove, that say
ing you is a sin of grievous and of wicked pride,
because it presumes to address a single individual
in the plural number. Far be it from me to en-

87
courage such an uncharitable vice as this, for I am
Well aware that pride was not made for man, nor
woman neither : but, as a politician, as one who
wishes to promote the welfare of humanity, I could
wish that the Friends were able to compound with
their conscience in all the little matters which do
not seem of sufficient consequence to be exalted
into the strictness of a moral duty, and blend them
selves more intimately with their fellow-beings,
who constitute the other portions of the commu
nity. I know that the wise and. good members of the
Friends labour to keep up, in their full strength,
the partition-walls which divide their Society from
the rest of mankind, from the purest and the best
motives, even those of guarding their youth from
the paths of profligacy and of vice. Neither can I
blame this their caution ; for it is almost as easy
to handle pitch without being defiled, as for, the
young and tender mind to mix intimately with the
children of this world, and not be led to woo, with
unabashed front, the means of weakness and debi
lity, to be tossed in the giddy stOrm of dissipation,
and to make a fatal shipwreck of virtue and of re
ligion. But I have such a firm and unbending confi
dence in the resistless efficacy of that excellent
G4

88
early moral and religious education with which the
Friends are so particularly careful to bless their
children, that I cannot refrain from earnestly de
siring a more intimate union of intercourse to sub
sist between the Society and the other orders of
mankind, for the purpose of pouring in a conti
nual supply of the very life's-blood of the commu
nity, by augmenting the streams of moral duty,
and widening the channels of religion, which now
flow in rivulets muoh too scanty and confined
throughout the regions of mortality, to gratify the
desires of a benevolent and an upright heart.

SECT. III.
The Conversation of the Friends in general not ex
panded.
I HOPE that it will not be deemed illiberal and
prejudiced in me to assert, that, although the con
versation of the Friends is such as not to wound
the ear of virtue, yet that it is seldom enlarged
arid elevated. I certainly shall not descend to the
minuteness of pointing out the ordinary topics of
discourse among the Friends, because they are very
similar (save indeed a few peculiarities arising from
the particular conformation of their society) to
those of sober, good people of all other sects,
chiefly turning on petty domestic incidents and

89
occurrences, with now and then a small observa
tion, by way of pause and break in the midst of
the copious flow of narrative. This deficiency
proceeds from the too narrow and scanty system
of education prevailing (as we shall see presently)
among the Friends.
That this must be the case seems clear from the
great paucity of literary characters which has al
ways existed in the Society ; and without extensive
knowledge it is vain to attempt to establish satis
factory and beneficial conversation ; to furnish the
feast of reason and the flow of soul, we must call
in the aid of literature and of science.
That the scantiness of acquired knowledge
among the Friends is not ideal, may be fairly in
ferred from the comparatively small number of
literary productions which the members of this
Society have ever committed to the press, for the
instruction and the improvement of the human
understanding. From this animadversion, how
ever, I am proud to except the name of Lindley
Murray, a man, whom to praise would be super
fluous, and to censure vain. This gentleman,
whose private life is one continued series of moral
virtue and of christian charity, has devoted those
high and commanding talents with which God has
blessed him, and those extensive intellectual at-

90
tainments which his own industry has procured,
to the blessed purpose of diffusing useful know
ledge throughout that most important portion of
the community — the rising generation. His is
the rare, the amiable praise of having descended
from the elevated heights of philosophy to instruct
babes and sucklings, to lead the youth of this em
pire, and of the world, from the error of their
ways to the wisdom of the just, to teach them that
without virtue and religion nothing human is
great, nothing is strong ; that the pillars of so
ciety can only stand firm and unmoved on the
self-depending power of integrity, which defies all
the assaults of time, as rocks resist the billows and
the skies.
" Patience from toil, from virtue vigour grows ;
Vice, a weak blossom, warm in sunny bower,
Some seeming tints of beauty may disclose,
But soon it withers in the chilling hour.
Mark yonder oaks! superior to the power
Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise,
And from the stormy promontory tower,
And toss their giant arms amid the skies,
While each assailing blast increase of strength supplies.
So Virtue, on Religion's wing, upbears
Aloft the soul of man above life's vale of tears."
But perhaps this censure of the scarcity of lite
rary productions among the Friends is unfounded,
and may proceed only from my want of acquaint-

91
ance with their works. I must confess that I have
not read Friends' books very extensively ; and if,
through ignorance, I have erred in ascribing that
to the Society which it does not. deserve, namely,
a dearth of literature, I am ready to make any be
coming apology for such mistake ; and do so
lemnly promise, that I will take the earliest oppor
tunity of rectifying the error, the moment that
any one better informed than myself upon the
subject, convinces me that I am wrong.
I hope and trust that the great importance Of
the subject will be a sufficient apology for the
length of the discussion into which I am about
immediately to enter.
Now that I no longer tread upon the awful and
mysterious ground of faith, I may venture to have
recourse to reason ; and, therefore, laying aside
for the present all allusions and references to mere
points of religious opinion, I proceed to show, that
the recorded experience of all ages, and the testis
mony of all human observation, go directly to prove,
that man's capabilities of power and of happiness
are exactly proportioned to the extent of his know*
ledge. I would just remark, however, that those
very pious people who assert that because many
learned men are not religious, therefore all learn
ing is hostile to Christianity, evince more sincerity

9^
of heart than strength of understanding : their ar
gument proves too much, and, consequently, proves
nothing ; for, by a similar mode of reasoning, we
can prove, that because many illiterate people are
irreligious, therefore ignorance is a most danger
ous enemy to all the interests of revelation.
If this simple position be admitted, that the aim
and end of man's existence here on earth ought
to be to perform as much active good to his fel
low creatures as he possibly can, and, consequent
ly, to fit himself for as much happiness hereafter
as his capacity of bliss can receive, or, in other
words, to gain all the power he can, and to make
a right use of that power, we shall readily see, that
knowledge is an indispensable requisite, in order
to enable him to fulfil the destined purpose of his
creation. It would seem, at the first view of the subject,
a superfluous and an unnecessary labour to endea
vour to establish the necessity of diffusing as wide
ly as possible through the world a desire of acquir
ing knowledge, were not too many men, from
mistaken motives of religion, and from erroneous
political calculations, very strenuous in attempting
to inculcate the doctrine of a saving ignorance.
I do not wonder that those whose lives are stained
with iniquity and vice, whose career of existence

93
is marked with folly and absurdity, should be de
sirous of obstructing the progress of knowledge,
because it is altogether incompatible with their
views; for as knowledge increases, wickedness
must diminish, and knaves consequently be scout
ed ; and folly must appear in all the hideousness
of native deformity, and, of course, the workers
of folly be consigned to universal neglect and con
tempt. But I am astonished, and feel hurt, when
men of understanding and of virtue (who are
themselves living witnesses of the efficacy of know
ledge in adorning and regulating the moral con
duct) range themselves under the banners of this
desolating doctrine.
What safety ignorance can bring to any created
being, I am yet to learn. She is the great nurs
ing mother of every crime that has hitherto laid
waste and destroyed the human race. Any one
acquainted with the history of man, will readily
allow, that we owe all our virtue and all our hap
piness to the increase of knowledge among the
children of men. Knowledge, indeed, is the only
real and essential power which exists : How can
we prevail upon ignorance to comprehend the sa
cred duties of morality? how can she understand
and appreciate the great and the hallowed bonds
which bind man to man, and connect him with
the circle of civilization and of society ?

9*
In order, however, to be able fully to ascertain
the power which ignorance possesses of conferring
safety on its owners, let us examine very briefly
and summarily (without any tedious wandering in
the mazes of the metaphysical labyrinth) by what
means we obtain all the materials of our know
ledge, and, I trust, we shall then readily conclude,
that slavery, dependence, misery, and anguish, ever
go hand in hand with ignorance and with folly.
The powers or faculties by which the human
mind acquires the materials of knowledge maybe,
perhaps, thus conveniently classed : — First, per
ception, by which she receives the impressions made
upon the organs of sensation by external objects ;
secondly, memory, by which she recals the images
of objects once, but no longer, present to the
senses; thirdly, association, by which she ties and
connects together the ideas heretofore received by
perception, and recalled by memory ; fourthly,
judgment, by which she decides upon the fitness or
the unfitness, the propriety or the absurdity of the
ideas so once perceived, so recalled, and so asso
ciated ; fifthly, reasoning, by which she forms, as
it were, a chain of judgments, regularly links and
connects together a number of decisions on the
ideas once perceived and afterwards recalled, and
associated, and decided upon, into a regular, com
pacted argument ; sixthly, imagination, the proud-

95
est and the most distinguished faculty of man, by
which she forms new combinations and arrange
ments of the ideas, once received by perception,
afterwards recalled by memory, tied together by
association, decided upon by judgment, and con
nected into argument by reasoning.
The human mind brings no knowledge with it
into the world, nor has it any other method by
which to acquire knowledge than by employing
the senses to contemplate the objects of the mate
rial world, which are open to the observation of
all the human race, whose organs of sensation are
not imperfect. In order to be convinced that you
cannot acquire the primitive materials of know
ledge by any other method than the inlet of the
senses, endeavour to produce a single idea, which,
or the component parts of which, have not been
offered to and received by your organs of sensation.
Give me, I beseech you, any accurately defined
image or idea of the Supreme Being, an angel, the
soul, or any other thing which we believe to exist,
but which has never been offered to the cogni
zance of your senses. Try to fix such an image
on your mind,, and you will, after all your efforts
and exertions, be able to do no more than call up
the representation of some material object, which
has impressed your organs of sensation.

90
By sensation, then, we acquire all our primitive
ideas, all the materials of our knowledge ; and is
it not fair to infer, that, in proportion as the sensi
bility is acute in man, he possesses the power of
acquiring knowledge rapidly, because material ob
jects make a more vivid impression upon delicate
than upon coarse organs of sensation ; and, conse
quently, the powers of the mind, which rise in
regular gradation as to pre-eminence above the
simple faculty of perception, must have a greater
facility and readiness of recalling, associating, de
ciding, reasoning, and creating new combinations
of the ideas, which have been so strongly and with
such energy fixed upon the perceptive faculty?
The sensibility depends, as proved by a multi
tude of physiological experiments, upon the exqui
site fineness and nice structure of the nervous
system ; and, consequently, women, the system of
whose nerves is more delicately organized than
that of men, possess a greater capability of acquir
ing knowledge in a given time than do the haughty
lords of the creation.
What then is genius ? We see that the human
mind has no method of acquiring knowledge but
by the organs of sensation, and that this method is
alike open to all mankind. Genius, consequently,

97
can be no mysterious something, called a natu
ral and inherent bias in the mind, since the same
means of acquiring knowledge are common to all
the human race, and genius must be allowed to
owe its existence only to the power of displaying
knowledge, it matters not in what way.
Genius, then, is only a raised and a superior
imagination ; that faculty by which a man is ena
bled to combine and arrange his original stock of
ideas; that he has received through the medium of
his senses, in such a diversified, varied, bold, and
rapid manner, as to distinguish him from the com
mon mass of mankind (who generally content
themselves with laying in a very small stock of
primitive ideas, and give themselves very little
trouble about arranging and fitting them for use),
and cause them to fancy that he is an originalist
and an inventor, striking out new paths in the re
gions of intellect ; which power their ignorance
ascribes to the immediate, miraculous gift of Pro
vidence, whereas it proceeds altogether from the
efforts of superior sensibility, and a raised imagi
nation, together with the aid of the intermediate
faculties of the mind, exercised and strengthened
by assiduous care and cultivation.
Hence we see the indispensable necessity of
education ; because every faculty of the mind can
H

93
be strengthened only by exercise, and no know
ledge (which, indeed, is nothing more than the
instrument by which the faculties of the mind are
called into action) can be obtained save by labour
and by toil.
These few and simple steps of induction lead us
to this most important of all conclusions, that as
genius is only the power of general talents, or a
raised and a superior imagination, any one who
possesses this creative faculty (if I may be allowed
the term) may excel in any department of human
ability to which he chooses to direct his time, his
attention, and his intellect. The same genius
which enabled Newton to make his profound dis
coveries in science, might, if he had so willed to
direct the exertions of his imagination, have ren
dered him a Handel, a Raffaelle d'Urbino, or a
Milton. Perhaps it is scarcely correct to say, that genius
is merely a raised imagination ; for imagination is
only one out of many powers of the mind, and,
although the highest, yet, without the previous
Operations of the other faculties, it could have no
ideas to arrange, and wherewith to form those com
binations which stamp the character of genius : it
would, therefore, be more accurate to define ge
nius to be a superior degree of general talents, or

99
universal ability, that is, a raised force of all the six
powers of the mind, perhaps, in a nearly equal ratio.
For We riot unfrequently meet With ardent minds',
whose writings, discourse, arid actions fully evince
a brilliant imagination, but not an equal degree of
perfection in the other rriental powers. To such
men we cannot allow the appellation of genius.
But, perhaps, this last circumstance may be ex
plained by taking it for granted that less attention
has been paid to the exercise of the other powers ;
for, surely, man is enabled, as he wills, to use any
given faculty of the mind, as perception, memory,
&c. more and oftener than he does the rest ; and
that which is exercised most, will acquire the great
est power, since every faculty, both mental and
corporeal, is augmented in force directly as to the
intensity of its exertion.
Nor is it any objection to this important truth,
that there exist men of great general ability, who
cannot compose music, Or even distinguish one
tunc from another. A man may have one or more
organs of sensation imperfect arid deficient, while
the others possess their full strength and aciitetieSS;
consequently his ability may be great, and his
'imagination powerful in combining and arranging
these ideas which his more perfect senses have
received, while it is incapable Of any such exer
tions with regard to the images furnished to other
H2

100
men by those organs of sensation, which in him
, are defective; for, where no ideas have been re
ceived by the senses, no combination of images
can be made by the imagination. No one expects
that a man born blind shall become a good painter,
because the materials and ground-work of the pain-
ter's art, namely, the objects of nature, the varie
ties of colour, and all the different subjects of vi
sion necessary to furnish the painter with a store
of images which he may embody on the canvass,
have never been offered to his sense of sight ; and
yet, surely, a blind man may possess a very supe
rior genius, witness Blacklock, the Scottish poet,
and Stanley, the musician, at Cambridge.
Apply this reasoning to an able man, who has
what is called no ear for music, and to what does
this wonderful discovery amount ? Even to this,
that his organ of hearing is imperfect, that one of
his senses is deficient. And is this a sufficient
reason why we should have recourse to the dark
ness of mystery, and the unintelligible absurdity
of nonsense, in order to ascribe genius to some
innate, unaccountable, inherent, inexplicable qua
lity of the human mind ? We might, with equal
justice, gravely assert, that a man cannot reason
accurately to-day, because he went to the levee at
St. James's last week.

101
Upon reconsidering this matter attentively, and
from some hints thrown out by a friend of mine
(for whose very exalted talents I entertain the most
profound respect), in conversation upon this sub
ject, I am induced to qualify this position respect
ing the want of ear or taste for music being alto
gether attributable to a deficiency in the organ of
hearing. There can be no doubt, that if a man is abso
lutely deaf, he can have no ear for music, or, in
deed, for any other sound; but if a man can dis
tinguish any one sound from another, of more or
less magnitude or intensity of force, he may, if he
so wills to direct his attention, be able to distin
guish one musical tune from another. When do
we hear any one, who has no ear for music, say,
that he does not hear the sounds ? He only says
that he does not understand them, that he cannot
accurately mark and discriminate the nice blendings
of the tone, the fine, and almost imperceptible va
riations of different notes, as they melt into each
other. And what does this confession imply ?
Even this, that his mind, from want of cultivation
as to this particular department of knowledge, is
not able to appreciate the sounds which it has re
ceived through the medium of the organ of hear
ing : a position, the truth of which is established
H3

102
by the facts which daily and hourly experience
pffers to our view.
S. Johnson Was very deficient in his sense of
hearing. In his route through the highlands of
Scotland, he is reported by Boswell to have said,
that he knew a drum from a trumpet, and a bag
pipe from a guitar, which was about the extent .of his
knowledge in music ; but he added, that if he had
learned music, he was afraid that he should have
done nothing else but play, for it was a method pf
employing the mind without the labour of think
ing, and with some applause from, a man's self. AU
which plainly shews, that deaf as he was? he could
in some measure appreciate the sounds, because
his mind, although labouring under the inconve
nience- of having them, imperfectly communicated
tp it, owing to, the defect in hia organ of hearing,
devoted its attention to them. But we seldom or
ever find that those who have, or fancy they have,
no ear for musiq, are, so deaf as, Johnson, is repre
sented to, be.
It should seem then, that this ear for music, as
it is called, depends uppn the vigilance of a highly
refined attention, which can on.ly be acquired by
long continued habit. We kppw that the most
ignorant of clowns is capable of distinguishing the

103
dismal hooting of the owl from the melody of the
nightingale, or the song of the thrush from the
wild warbling of the morning lark ; but surely this
same clown cannot be expected to distinguish the
nice graces which distinguish the music of one
refined nation from that of another. His faculty
of discriminating the different notes of different
singing birds, proceed from his habit of daily hear
ing them carol their lays, while he is pursuing his
accustomed toil in the fields or in the woods. Give
this same clown education, and allow him to listen
as frequently to the refined music which the art
-of man has produced, and can any one (provided
the clown be not originally a most egregious block
head) for a moment doubt but that he would be
able to acquire an equal power of discriminating
the softer and finer variations of tones in the most
delicate piece of musical composition which the
Italian school of harmony has produced? The
organ of sensation, therefore, the faculty of hearing,
is not called upon to weigh and to appreciate the
different degrees of force, or harshness, or soft
ness, in musical, or indeed in any other sound, but
-is merely the medium through which these sounds
are conveyed to the mind, which alone can sit in
judgment upon, and decide as to their qualities of
melody or harmony.
In order to be well aware of the validity of the
H4

104
above reasoning, we must keep continually in view
the marked and distinctive difference of the mind
and the senses. No one organ of sensation, nor
all the organs of sensation put together, can ever
perceive, or remember, or associate ideas. Would
it not be ridiculous in the extreme to talk of the
eye being capable of judging, or of the ear holding
an argument, or of the nose forming a happy and
a bold combination of images ? The senses are
merely the inlets to the materials of knowledge,
the primary ideas received from without ; but the
mind, by its various faculties of perception, me
mory, association, judgment, reasoning, and imagi
nation, makes use of these ideas,, balances and
poises their fitness, combines anclarranges them for
the different purposes of thought and expression.
Neither does it necessarily follow, that the
powers of the mind are proportional to the acute-
ness of the senses. Indeed, the facts of daily expe
rience are in direct contradiction to this doctrine.
S« Johnson's senses of sight, hearing, and touch,
were all extremely defective; neither were his ol
factory organs, or those of taste, peculiarly acute
and quick ; but the colossal powers of his mind
have seldom or ever been equalled by any one
born of woman. The conclusions, therefore, to
be drawn from these premises are these — that the
capacity of receiving images or ideas from the ob-

105
jects of the material world, is measured directly by
the acuteness of the senses ; and that the capacity
of using those ideas, and calling them into action
for the purposes of human intelligence, is exactly
measured by the degree of force which appertains
to the mental powers, as perception, memory, &c.
and that in the direct ratio of the original quick
ness and strength of the perceptive faculty, is the
original strength and quickness of all the other
faculties of the mind, which rise in the regular
gradations of ascending excellence, namely, me
mory, association, judgment, reasoning, and ima
gination ; and lastly, that the force and power
both of the organs of sensation and of the mental
faculties, are in the compound ratio of their ori
ginal strength, (the gift of nature) and their ac
quired strength, (the product of art, arising from
exercise and cultivation).
As the senses are the only inlets to the materials
of knowledge, it follows, that the mind, however
powerful or however weak may be its capacity
when first breathed into the human frame by the
Almighty, must be limited as to the stock of ideas
on which its faculties can work, by the capability
of the senses in receiving impressions from ex
ternal objects ; and, consequently, that Johnson,
(or any other man of a gigantic frame of mind

J 06
under similar circumstances with Johnson) would
have been able to lay up, in a given time, a greater
store of ideas on which bis mental faculties might
have been exerted, had his organs of sensation
been more aeute ; how much wider a range for
his mind would have been opened to him, if his
sight had been more perfect, in contemplating the
boundless charms of nature, and in correctly not
ing the almost endlessly diversified shiftings of ex
pression in the human face divine !
If the quantity of mind depended wholly on the
degree of perfection and acuteness appertaining to
the organs of sensation, many animals would sur
pass man in the range of intellect immediately
connected with that sense, or those senses, which
in them were more acute and perfect than iri the
lord of all earthly creation. The piercing eye of
the eagle would lead that princely bird to an
pmpler store of ideas acquired by sight, thaa could
be derived from the more imperfect vision of man;
Jove's feathered king would, according to this pro
found hypothesis, be a better judge of landscape
than Claude Lorrain, and a more accurate and
comprehensive observer of the beauties of nature
than Shakespeare or Burns. The bsro, from its
more acute sense of hearing, would be a better
judge of all the finer graces and more exquisite

107
beauties of musical sounds than Incledon or Bra-
ham. The dog and the horse-— but I will not press
the weight of absurdity, attendant upon this doc
trine of the identity of the senses and the mind,
(a doctrine most strenuously maintained by Helve-
tius throughout the whole of his celebrated trea
tise on the Human Mind) any farther, but pro
ceed to retract an assertion which I too hastily
advanced a few pages earlier in this book; namely,
that the powers of the mind were proportioned in
their strength to the delicacy and acuteness of the
organs of sensation ; because the senses can only
receive the impressions made by external objects,
and the faculties of the mind, which alone are
enabled to fit these impressions for use, are, as
shewn abpve, altogether separate, and distinct
from the senses; which may be considered only as
so many different roads to the same field of action,
the mind: and good roads may lead us to a barren
heath, a wide wilderness of desolation, while nar
row and contracted paths may conduct us to well
cultured plains and gay enamelled meads.
Take a clown, whose organ of sight is in every
respect perfect, place! this man and such a one as
Reynolds before a fine historical picture, let Rey
nolds' organ of sight be even weaker and less acute
than that of his rustic neighbour, there can be no
doubt that the clown would be able t© discern the

108
form and colour of the figures represented, to thd
full as clearly, or perhaps more clearly, (as far as
relates to the mere intensity of acuteness in the
organ of vision) than Reynolds could do. But
when the objects were conveyed to the mind of
the clown through the medium of his sense of
sight, though the road that brought them thither
was excellent, yet they would not produce so
powerful an effect upon his mind as on that of
Reynolds, to which, however, they had travelled
through a medium less perfect, through a path less
ample and spacious. The mind of the uncultured
rustic being altogether unaccustomed to the recep
tion of such images, knows not what use to make
of them, nor how to regard them, how to poise,
to balance, to marshal them in array, to form them
into combinations, and arrange them into classes.
But the genius of Reynolds, nursed by education,
is all on fire; his mind calls up an innumerable
host of pleasurable combinations, and delightful
assemblages of ideas previously stamped in glow
ing colours upon his refined and cultivated imagi
nation ; whereas the clown, with all the perfection
of his sight, has no preyious images to call up, has
no acquired genius, whose flames may be fanned
into a brighter blaze by the breath of imagination.
Many men are so unfortunate as to dislike poe
try, and yet affect to be pleased with prose. This

log
peculiarity of taste must derive its origin from the
mind and not from the senses ; for the same eye
which sees the verse can discern the prose, and the
same ear that listens to the prose can receive the
sound of the verse ; the effects produced on the
mind by the application of any particular incite
ment, must wholly arise from the peculiar mode of
training and of cultivation, to which the under
standing has been accustomed.
It is believed by some very grave people, that
Demosthenes was born an orator; but, very unfor
tunately, at his birth, and long after, the material
and principal requisite of an orator was wanting in
this child of innate eloquence, I mean the power
of delivering his words fluently. He stammered,
and tripped, and stumbled, so much in his speech,
that the mob at Athens hissed him for attempting
to harangue them, which circumstance so dis
quieted him, that he determined if possible to over
come this radical defect, without removing which
he well knew that he could never aspire, with any
hope of success, to the distinguished praise of
being an orator: he, therefore, stuffed his mouth
with pebbles, and accustomed himself to speak
aloud on the sea shore, that the roaring of the
billows of the dark-heaving main might enable him
to stand unmoved in calm composure, amidst the
murmurs of a mob ; and after long labour and

110
with unremitted assiduity, he was enabled to pro*
nounce his words clearly and distinctly*
Pray then were these pebbles born with him too,
as part of his oratorical power, for to them he
owed very much of his advocatorial excellence?
We might, with equal justice, assert that a man
is born an attorney, or an exciseman, or an apo
thecary, as that he is born a poet, a musician, or
an orator ; for all these (I mean the three last call
ings) are all alike the offspring of the same imagi
native faculty, exercised (of course in different de-
grees) in combining ahd fitting for use the ideas
which have been received through the medium of
sensation. The fact is, that Demosthenes possessed a very
lively sensibility, and a very pOwerftil and ardent
imagination, both which he had improved by the
most assiduous diligenpe and Study, and conse
quently found himself capable of excelling in
any department of human ability. He had am
bition, and the desire of obtaining power; for
what human being breathes who is not stimu
lated by this universal incitement to action ? His
talents would havfe enabled him to lead armies to
victory, to roll the deep thunder of the Pierian
song, to hew the shapeless marble into a living
form, or with the creative pencil's glowing colours,

Ill
to stamp the canvass with the seal of immortality;
but he saw- at that hour, when he began his career
of public life, that oratory was the only road which
led to power in Athens, and therefore determined
to become an orator, and immediately applied him
self diligently to overcome the only obstacle in his
way, an impediment in his speech.
It depends altogether upon the peculiar stimulus
which is applied, as to what particular department
of human ability a genius, as it is called, shall di
rect his attention; and when, after long and painful
steps of unwearied labour, and of unremitted toil
(for upon assiduous industry alone is built all the
fabric of human greatness) he comes out upon the
world in the mightiness of his strength, and in the
fierceness of his meridian blaze, those people who,
have contented themselves with using words to
which they never take the trouble of affixing any
definite, any determinate idea,, little dreaming by
what slow and difficult gradations of toil he arrived
at excellence in his pursuit, gratify their admi
ration by opening wide their mouths, and with a
foolish face of wonder bawling out, why, look you,
he has a genius for this same calling.
The peculiar incitements which may direct a
man to any particular pursuit, are so numerous
and so diversified, that it is impossible to calculate,

112
and much more so to point out and to enumerate
their species. We all know that men of ability
often waver, and remain in a state of uncertainty,
as to what particular purSuit they shall direct their
attention; nay, that they shall excel in many dif
ferent pursuits, all requiring the highest exertions
of genius: witness the all-accomplished Sir Wil-
li3m Jones, who was an orator, a poet, a musician,
and a profound philosopher. Where then is the
peculiar and inherent bias of nature which irresis
tibly irhpels a man to that pursuit for which his
genius is born ?
It requires the long and assiduous exercise of
that highest of all the intellectual faculties, ima
gination, to enable any one to become a poet, a
composer of music, a painter,' an orator, or to
excel in any other department of human ability.
And any man whose organs of sensation are acute,
and whose powers of mind are strong and quick,
and in whom none of them are deficient, may, by
labour and education, excel in either, or more than
one, of these lofty and dignified attainments;
These positions, undoubtedly, lead to the most
beneficial consequences, by always affording a \ery
powerful incitement to induce us to improve our
minds, and thereby to increase our power, and
augment our capabilities of virtue and of happi
ness.

113
But let Us apply these important truths to ig
norance, that we may see what safety and security
it imparts to us. Wc perceive that the human
mind possesses no power till she has acquired
knowledge by the exercise of her faculties, and
that her power and knowledge increase directly in
proportion to the quantity of labour bestowed in
cultivating these faculties, that is, in proportion to
the care bestowed in education. But ignorance
is the absence of all knowledge, and consequently
of all power. What safety then can it afford, since
it is actually the very essence of weakness and de
bility ? Pause a while, and consider the deplorable
condition to which this saving ignorance reduces
man. In this life it makes him a slave, and de
grades him below the level of the brute that pe
rishes; neither does it fit him for .a future state,
because our happiness hereafter must depend upon
the exercise of our intellectual faculties, upon the
exertions of, our mind, or soul, no matter what
name you give it, our immortal part, the emana
tion from the Deity, which survives the dissolution
of the body, outlives the wreck of elements, and
exists throughout all the countless ages of eternity.
But ignorance implies a total suspension and
lorpescence of all the intellectual faculties : and
how can we expect that it will be able to compre
hend the sublime truths of religion, which are al-
I

114
together pure, and abstracted from every thing
gross, sensual, and worldly ? Would an ignorant
man, think you, understand these unsullied and
soul-exalting truths which were uttered by the
woman of Damascus ?
An abbe of the Franciscan order going into
the town of Damascus, met a womali in the street,
bearing in one hand a vessel full of water, and in
the other a dish containing fire. What does all
this mean, cried the ecclesiastic ? It means, re
plied the woman, that I wish this fire to destroy
Paradise, and with this water to extinguish the
flames of Hell. The reverend father, whose asto
nishment these words served only to heighten,
earnestly besought the woman to explain the im
port of her very extraordinary speech. I would
wish, answered she, that men were no longer ac
tuated by the hope of reward, or influenced by the
fear of punishment, but did good, and followed
virtue, altogether through pure love of God.
Tell to ignorance this heavenly tale, and how
will it find its way through her hebetated organs
of hearing to the inmost recesses of her soul ? I
shrink back with horror and with dread, appalled,
amazed, afraid, when I contemplate the baneful
and destructive consequences which this doctrine
of diffusing and establishing the dominion ofigno-

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124
It could never once have entered their heads,
that, in after times, any people would be so de
plorably mistaken as to imagine, that they de
nounced war against literature and science, which,
while they expand the mind, enlarge the capabi
lity of goodness, and lead the inquirer
" Through all Nature, up to Nature's God."
*' For it is an assurcd; truth, and a conclusion of
experience, that a little or superficial knowledge
may incline the mind of man to atheism, but a fur
ther proceeding therein doth bring the mind back
again to religion ; for, in the entrance of philosophy,
when the second causes, which are next unto the
senses, do offer themselves unto the mind of man,
if it (the mind, which it has no business to do) dwell
and stay there, it may induce some oblivion of the
highest cause ; but when a man passeth on farther,
and socth the dependence of causes, and the works
of Providence, then, according to the beautiful and
impressive allegory of the poets, he will easily be
lieve that the highest link of Nature's chain must
be tied to the foot of Jupiter's chair."
" Shall he, whose birth, maturity, and age,
Scarce fill the circle of one summer day j
Shall the pepr gnat, with discontent and rage,
Exclaim, that Nature hastens to decay,

225
If but a cloud obstruct the soler ray,
If but a momentary shower descend !
Or shall frail man Heaven's dread decree gainsay,
Which bade the Series of events extend,
Wide through unnuirfber'd worlds, and ages without end t
" One part, one lituVpart, we dimly scan,
Thro' the dark medium of life's feverish dream;
Yet dare arraign the whole stupendous plan,
If but that little part incongruous seem ;
Nor is that part, perhaps, what mortals deem.
Oft from apparent ills our blessings rise,
0, then renounce that impious self esteem,
That aims to trace the secrets of the skies !
For thou art but of dust, be humble and be wise.
" And thou, my child, whose heart is yet sincere,
Th' assaults of discontent and doubt repel ;
Dark, e'en at noontide, is our mortal sphere ;
But let us hope, to doubt is to rebel,
Let us exult in hope, that all shall yet be well.
?' Nor be thy generous indignation check'd,
Nor check'd the tender tear to Misery giv'n ;
From Guilt's contagious power shall that protect,
This soften and refine the soul for Heav 'n.
But dreadful is their doom, whom doubt has driven
To censure fate, and pious hope forego :
Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven,
Perfection, beauty, life, they never know,
But frown on all that pass, a monument of .wee."
Whatever exercises the powers of the mind so
as to make them more strong, energetic, and dar-

, 120
irig, renders them more capable of goodness and
happiness ; for how can we arrive at any felicity or
rectitude, but through the medium of our under
standing, since man is composed only of mind and
body, and the body surely cannot receive or impart
moral bliss?- It is well kncvn that every faculty
of the mind, as well as of the body, is invigorated
and expanded by exercise, whence it ensues, that
the more the mind is stretched, even to its loftiest
pitch of expansibility, the more fit it becomes to
follow after and to reach higher degrees of religi
ous excellence and happiness.
No one, how strenuous an advocate soever for
the cause of ignorance, will be so hardy as to deny,
that there are different gradations of religious
goodness in different people, and they will find it
very difficult to prove that this excellence is not
directly as to the quantity of mind employed in
earnestly endeavouring to act in conformity to the
precepts of the gospel.
In proof of the foregoing position I might ad
duce numberless instances to demonstrate, that
extensive knowledge, so far from leading men
astray from, directs them more especially to, God
and his Christ, witness Bacon, Locke, Milton,
Boyle, Newton, and Sir William Jones, of the two
last of whom it is reported, that they began in

127
scepticism and ended in Christianity. These, and
many more whom I could name, were some of the
greatest, the most highly gifted, the most exten
sively adorned with all the spoils of literature and
science, of all the created beings that ever were
permitted to inshrine an immortal soul in a taber
nacle of clay.
But I wish rather to repose upon the more
steady, durable, and unerring support of general
reasoning, than the endless and unsatisfactory
mode of having recourse to particular instances.
What is the direct tendency of knowledge ? Even
to enable us more clearly to' perceive the relations
of things towards each other, to see the linkings of
cause and effect ; in a word, more accurately to
understand whatever is offered to the cognizance
of our minds. But the more we know, the more
sensible we become of the infinite Wisdom, power,
and goodness of God, because the more our un
derstandings are enlarged the more light we are
capable of receiving, and the more inclined are we
" Not impiously the secrets to explore
Of God's eternal empire, but the more
To magnify his works the more we know."
The more we" are sensible of the perfection of
God, the more do we perceive our own weakness
and nothingness in his sight, and bow with' all

128
humility, in singleness of heart, in sincerity, and
in truth before Him, who is of purer eyes than tp
behold iniquity.
Neither is it any valid objection to my argu
ment, that some able and learned men revolt from
their allegiance to God and his Christ, because as
man is a free agent, he may or he may not turn
to the Lord with all his heart, with all his soul,
and with all his strength ; but still this does not
prove that knowledge necessarily leads to atheism;
even these very men, in the midst of their scepti
cism, still retain greater capabilities of perceiving
and fulfilling their duties, and. consequently pf
enjoying . higher bliss than their more ignorant
(fellow-beings, whence their greater guilt and inif
-quity. Syrely it is not sound and legitimate rea
soning, to argue against the use of a thing merely
from its abuse. Many, learned men have been
.sorrowful, and have been atheists. What then ?
This is no proof that sorrow and atheism are the
inseparable attendants upon knowledge). Many a
bank of England note has been misapplied in its
use, has been made subservient to the purposes of
bribery, of sedition, of assassination. Are, there
fore, bank of England notes of no use in quicken
ing the wheels of commerce, in strengthening the
;hands of government, and in putting productivie
industry in motion?, ;

129
Are we, because learning has been abused by
Some misguided individuals, to do away and to an
nihilate that which, in prosperity, is our highest
consolation and ornament, in adversity our great
est refuge and strong hold of defenee, which re
strains, tempers, mitigates, and polishes youth,
which Sooths, and adds respectability to age?
Shall we be deprived of the best and the noblest
of all the sources of felicity which rnay cheer our
hours When the busy and the active scenes of life
no longer can engage our attention, Which may
rock the cradle of declining age, when neither
necessity nor inclination shall prompt us to con
sume our time in quest Of influence and of power?
There is no felicity eqUal to that which we de
rive from the workings of our own minds ; and
no such effectual means to prevent wickedness
from entering in arid' defiling our hearts, can be
found, as continually to employ our understand
ings in the pursuit of knowledge. Idleness is the
great foster-father of all iniquity, and lead's to the
cotrimissiOn of every crime within the scale of the
idle person's capacity; but in the hours of relaxa
tion from the toil of business, when the wheels of
life's machinery are at rest, the ignorant arid the
uninformed mind must be idle, and, consequently,
vicious, Or betake itself to such petty and frivolous
pursuits, as tend to make it still more Weak and
K

130
barren, still less capable of imparting and receiving
bliss. Let learning be testimonied by her bringing!
forth ; let her be tried by the business which she
hath helmed ; and then let any man lay his hand
upon his heart and tell me that he ever found the
true and the genuine consequences of knowledge
to be trouble, vexation, sorrow, anguish, infidelity,
and death; let him declare, that the immediate
and the eventual effects were not tranquillity,
complacency, cheerfulness, gaiety, hope, joy, faith,
charity, religion, and elevation of soul ; and I will
believe, that no all-ruling hand directs the planets
in their course, stills the raging of the sea, or
guides the motion of the universe.
Another objection to the diffusion of knowledge
is, that the first disciples, the apostles of christi-"-
anity, were unlearned, and, therefore, it behoves
us not to seek after knowledge ; why should we
want to know more than they ? If we be as good,
it will be well for some of us, &c. &c. &c.
This doctrine is as just and logical as it is con
soling and instructive. Some things are above,
others below reasoning ; certainly, this objection
does not belong to the first class. Hear now how
well this mode of arguing may be applied to prove

131
the necessity of any one absurdity whatever. Mat
thew was a publican, Peter a fisherman, Luke a
painter and a physician, Paul a doctor of laws ;
therefore ought we all to be lawyers, physicians,
painters, fishermen, and publicans — risum teneatis
emiciP It is rather unfortunate, also, for the posi
tion now under examination, that Paul was learn
ed in all the learning of his times, and master of
the most impressive and energetic eloquence.
,'iVv.
Besides* I very much doubt the fact of the
apostles being unlettered and ignorant men ; for
if they had been so, they could not have impressed
their doctrines with sufficient force on the minds
©f the hearers, unless aided by a perpetual and
standing miracle, operating on the hearts of their
auditors every time that they opened their mouths;
a supposition which contradicts and cuts up by the
roots all the efficacy of man's free will : for if 1 am
irresistibly compelled by a miracle to do any given
act, I am no more than a mere machine, am no
longer an accountable being, a moral agent; and
it was not for the edification of machines, that
Christ died, or the gospel was preached. To teach,
naturally implies a superior knowledge of the thing
taught, in comparison with the information of the
learners ; whence we are enabled to teach a greater
or a less number and variety of people exactly in
the ratio of our acquired knowledge and wisdom.
K2

132
We should find a very considerable portion of abi-J
fity and information necessary to teach any given1
fact, however simple it might be, to all the classes
of society now in Great Britain at this day^ in a
period, comparatively, so much more enlightened
than that barbarous age, when the apostles first
prorhulgated the gospel to an ignorant and an em*
brutified people*
Why Is man superior to the brute that perishes?"
Because he knows more. Why is one man higher
in the scale of created nature than another?' Be
cause his intellectual faculties are more enlarged.
A peasant, bending over and not much moro en
lightened than the Sod which he ploughs up, is no
more Capable of such high and exalted Christiaii
virtue'and felicity, as was the immortal Newton,
Or the all-accomplished Jones, than he is able to
wield the1 forked lightning, and to launch the
dread thunderbolt of God. Has the Worm the
march of the Warrior-horse; or can the bat soar
as does the eagle ? Why are the angels happier
than' mortal's? Because they are more intellectual.
Why is the blessed God himself infinitely tetppyy
but because he is infinitely wise ? "-iriifi'i
. • ' .v.J
The gradations of intellect are infinitely diver
sified, beginning frOm the lowest stage of its exis
tence in the being just removed one degree froth

133
an idiot and a drill, and progressively ascending
up throdgh all the immensity of space, to the con
summation of all intellect and of all perfection, the
Almighty Creator of the universe ; and we find
that, as we rise in the scale of intellect, we improve
our powers of goodness and of felicity; the chris
tianized philosopher possessing more than'the ig
norant and the embrutified worldling, the angel
more than the philosopher, the higher orders of
cherubim and of seraphim more than the lower
ranks of those pure intelligences, till we arrive at
the great First Cause of all, who is infinitely intel
lectual, infinitely good, and infinitely happy.
From this most consolatory and delightful of
all doctrines it follows, that we are bound by every
tie of duty, both human and divine, to accelerate
as much as possible the progressive march of our
minds towards a higher and a more exalted degree
pf perfection,
Shall, then, the folly, the presumption, the au
dacity, the tyranny of man, presume to prescribe
limits to, and impose bounds upon, knowledge ?
Shall he dare to dishonour God his Creator, by
not employing those talents which his Maker has
graciously given untq him ? Shall he' dare to per
vert the gifts of Heaven, each social instinct, each
Sublime desire, by endeavouring to shroud himse'U"
K3

134
and his fellow creatures,in the dun pall of igno-
" ranee, in the darksome gloom of Gothic stupidity
and of Vanda'lic barbarism, when superstition was
religion, idolatry adoration, insolence piety, and
blood-guiltiness deemed an acceptable sacrifice to
the God of peace, of mercy, of benevolence, and
of long-suffering ?
I shall only notice one or two of the obstacles
which politicians throw in the way of knowledge.
The statesmen say — " that learning softens men's
minds, and renders them unfit for the honour and
the exercise of arms ; that it incapacitates them
for matters of government and of policy, by mak
ing them too curious and irresolute by variety of
reasoning, or too peremptory and positive by strict
ness of rules and of actions ; that it diverts men
from labour and business, and induces a love of
leisure and of privacy ; and, lastly, that it brings
into states a relaxation of discipline, whilst every
man is more ready to argue than to obey and to
execute," However the christian might lament the desola
tion of war and of bloodshed, as repugnant to all
the precepts of the gospel, yet the politician must
feel, that in the present state of society it would
be vain and ineffectual to hope for the preserva
tion of property, liberty, all that makes life dear,

135
nay, life itself, which is the soul of every blessing,
from the hand of a rapacious and an unsparing
enemy, unless he opposes force to force, and pre
sents the buckler of defence against the point of
his antagonist's sword. Taking facts, then, as
they actually exist, surely the sxatesmen cannot
be in earnest when they say, that learning unfits
men for the highest military honours and excel
lency, the command of armies, when they must
be aware of the names of Alexander, of Caesar, of
Xenophon, of Epaminondas, of Frederic of Prussia,
of the present emperor of the Gauls (whose mili
tary prowess the whole world has had but too much
occasion to know' and to remember), all men of let
ters, and all transcendantly versed in the pursuits
of human knowledge.
It surely cannot require much reasoning to
prove, that when a soldier happens to be literary,
that is, in other words, happens to be blessed with
an enlarged and a cultivated understanding, he
must always be the best qualified to comprehend
instructions, to plan enterprizes, and to execute,
with all the promptitude of dispatch, the most ar
duous achievements.- In a sudden emergency,
in the day of danger, in the hour of battle, which
is the most likely to extricate himself and his comr
rades from difficulty and from death, the man,
whose intellect has been chastened, invigorated,
K4

136
enlarged, and rendered clear and accurate by the
cultivation of knowledge; or the piece of furni
ture, which is acted upon by springs, and put in
motion by clock-work ?
If learning incapacitate men from guiding the
helm of state, how came it to pass, that under the
government pf Lorenzo de Medici, when all the
political movements were made by learned hands,
npt only Florence, but all Italy, grew, flourished,
and prospered, more than at any former or any suc-i
ceeding period of time $ Which is the most fit
ting, think you, to wield the governmental sceptre,
and to sway the councils of a nation, on the broad
"jasis pf the public good? he, who has laid the
foundations of knowledge, deep, original, and
strong, whose mind has been enlightened, exalted,
and purified by a careful and an attentive perusal
and investigation of the writings of the ancient and
modern heroes of literature; or he who has been
trarnmelied, and systematized, and circumscribed
in the petty routine of office, the perpetual perpe
tration of deceit, and of political expediency and
trjck, and the undeviating round of dissimulation
and hypocrisy, of ignorance, of bigotry, of super-i
stitipn ? He who has prosecuted his. studies by the
light of the torch of truth, by the pure, the holy,
and the incorruptible flame of freedom, whose, step
is( firm and manly, whose countenance is erect and;

137
dignified, whose mind is strengthened and ex
panded, whose heart is open and undisguised ; or
the wretch, who has fawned, and flattered, and
wheedled^ and cringed, and crept, and lied himself
into office, in whose eye is deceit, under whose
smile lurketh destruction, and in whose fair speech
is death ? Longinus, and Pliny, and Bacon, and
Thuanus, and More, and Raleigh, and Clarendon,
and ten thousand others, whom I could name, were
not, I ween, rendered altogether incapable of poli
tical employment, on account of their extensive
erudition, profound science, and stupendous in
tellect. But learning diverts men from business and
labour, and induces a love of ease and of privacy.
Not so, when the paramount call of duty speaks
aloud. When their country wants, and really
wishes, their assistance, who so ready to fly to its
aid as men of enlarged capacity, and abundant
acquirements ? While others endure business as a
task, or have recourse to it, in order to advance
their fortunes, to increase their consequence, to
administer to their lust of power, of pride, of lux
ury, of envy, of revenge, of malice, of domination,
learned men alone execute it for its own sake, and
Steadily pursue the undeviating path of duty, un-
warped, unblenched, unbiassed, inflexible, upright*

138

honourable. Whatever enlarges the capacity of
man, renders him more adequate to the ready,
rapid, and accurate discharge of business ; but
nothing enlarges the capacity of man so much as

learning.

But learning undermines the reverence for laws
and government,
" Ye fools, when will ye be wise ? ye simple
ones, when will ye get understanding ?" Can any
thing be more absurd to object, that a hlind cus
tom of obedience Js a surer obligation than duty
taught ap.d understood ? Will a blind man find his
way better by the help of a guide, than he who
sees will by a light ? Learning renders men gentle,
generous, amiable, pliant, decorous, observant of
order and of propriety ; ignorance makes them
brutal, morose, churlish, disobedient, untractable.
When is the crimson standard of civil discord un
furled, when is the bloody banner of intestine de
solation seen to float upon the wings of the wind ?
When does father fight against son, and the child
rise up against his parent ? When are the laws
trampled on, humanity violated, and justice set at
nought ? Is it in the period of refinement, of cul
tivation, of literature, of science, or in the time
of mental darkness, of ignorance, of barbarism, of
Yandalic gloom ?

139
Of good, of just, of mild, and of equitable go
vernment, learning is the firm, the unalterable,
and the unbending supporter ; but of despotic
sway, and of tyrannic domination, of lawless an
archy, and of headlong, tumultuous, phrenzied,
and seditious turbulence, the sworn and the eternal
foe, the terror, the scourge, the destroyer. Neither
arbitrary rule, nor the senseless rage of revolu
tionary fury, can exist in the same kingdom, where
a diffusion of learning prevails.
May I, after this very long dissertation, be al
lowed to sketch the character of what, I imagine,
a man ought to be ?
Such a one must possess a powerful and a
mighty mind; a mind which reposes with dignified
confidence on its own strength, and draws, from
its vast storehouse of acquired knowledge per
petual and abundant sources of felicity and of
delight ; he must possess all that the purest spirit
of Christianity, and the most extensive range of
intellect, exercised by continued and unremitted
study in the various departments of literature, and
by unwearied and ardent researches into the re
condite depths of science, can bestow. He must
have attained that state of mind which enables him
to cast his view, broad and expanded, over the uni
verse, to contemplate all mankind as his brethren,

140
as the children of one great father, even God, who
hath formed all the human race of the same clay,
fashioned them all of the same materials, and
stamped them all in the same mould. Such a
mind appreciates every thing at its true value; no
external and adventitious circumstances bias his
judgments, or warp his decisions; he ranks every
human being in the scale of his approbation, di
rectly in the ratio of his virtue and his under-!
Standing; no arbitrary and capricious distinctions,
no ostentatious display of gaudy and of meretri»
eious glare, no vain and imaginary superiority,
founded on narrow and partial principles of human
policy, ever dazzle his steady sight, or turn aside
his unerring judgment. His eagle eye pierces
through, the foggy atmosphere of prejudice, of
bigotry, of error, and of form, and ranges with
delight through the eethereal and the celestial re
gions of truth and reason; no little difference of
tongue, no petty variation of colour, no trifling
diversity as to mere doctrinal and nonessential
points of religious opinion, no forced limits, or
artificial boundary of kingdom or of nation, can
direct him in the choice of friendship or of affec,
tion ; virtue alone he loves, vice he compassionates
and would remove. He bows in obedience to all
the forms of constituted authority, because they
are the necessary links of the great chain which
binds man to man in social intercourse and bar.

141
friony; but he also appeals to God and to the tri
bunal of his own conscience, to sit in judgment
upon all his actions. He abstains nOt from violence,
and deceit, and evil of every kind, because human
laws have prohibited some certain species of ini
quity from being perpetrated under pain of punish4
ment, but because the pure spirit of benevolence
and of religion directs all his thoughts, words, and
deeds towards the unremitted and the constant
attempt to ameliorate the condition of his suffering
and afflicted fellow-creatures, and to vindicate the
Ways of God to man.
By painful and unwearied exertion of his mental
faculties, he eadeavours to arrive at some few
simple, general principles, from, which shall flow
as necessary consequences all those rules Which
might regulate his own conduct aright, and that
of all those- who come within the sphere of his
attraction, well knowing that to get, by means of
the inductive philosophy, step by step, climbing
up from particulars to generals, and thus reaching
some few ultimate and satisfactory principles, is
• the last result of human excellence.
: And with all this power and vigour of mind, he
cherishes every finer and every softer sensation of
the heart. He is well aware that private and do
mestic virtue is the only permanent foundation of

142
all public good: he knows that a people's happi
ness is directly as the quantity of private and of
individual virtue, and that he who honours, and
respects, and fulfils the great charities of father;
husband, son, and brother, can never study aught
but to promote the well-being of his fellow citi->
zens; wherefore he brings to his own little family
circle (every spot and corner of whose area he
irradiates with knowledge, enlivens with cheerful
ness, and felicitates with virtue) all that a power
ful mind, tuned, softened, and attempered by the
finest and the most heavenly sensations of the
purest love and the most ardent affection, can im
part of bliss to man. Such a one is a christianized
philosopher, and well pourrrayed (by one who'
knew better how to describe than to act the cha-*
racter of exalted greatness) in the following lines.
'/ ,
 : — " Sapiens, sibique imperfosus,
Quim neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula terrent;-
Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere hpnores
Fortis, et in seipso totus, teres, atque rotundus,
Extern! ne quid valeat, per lseve morari ;
In qiteiii'manca fuit semper Fortuha."
Such a dignified character is also described by A
celebrated modern writer, with an eloquence pe
culiarly energetic and impressive, in these words :
« To distinguish men by the difference of their
moral qualities, to espouse one party from a sense

143
of justice, to oppose another, even with indigna
tion, when excited by iniquity, are the common
indications of probity, and t*ie operations of an
animated, an upright, and a generous spirit. To
guard against unjust partiality, and ill-grounded
antipathies, to maintain that composure of mind,
which, without impairing its sensibility or ardour,
proceeds in every instance with discernment and
penetration, are the marks of a vigorous and a cul
tivated spirit.
" To be able to follow the dictates of such a
spirit through all the varieties of human life, and
with a mind always master of itself, in prosperity
or adversity, and possessed of all its abilities, when
the subjects in hazard are life or freedom, as much
as in treating simple questions of interest, are the
triumphs of magnanimity and true elevation of
mind. " The event of the day is decided, draw
this javelin from my body now," said Epaminondas,,
" and let me bleed."
" In what situation, or by what instruction, is
this wonderful character to be formed ? Is it found
in the nurseries Of affectation, of pertness,'and of
vanity, from which fashion is propagated, and
gentility is announced ? In great, and in opulent
cities, where men vie with each other in equipage,
in dress, and in the reputation of fortune ? Is it

144
Within the admired precincts of a court, where*
we may learn to smile without being pleased, to
caress without affec+i*on, to wound with the secret
weapons of envy and of jealousy, and to rest our
personal importance on circumstances which we
cannot always with honour command ?
" No — but in a situation where the great sentU
ments of the heart are awakened, where the cha
racters of men, not their situations and fortunes,
are the principal distinction, where the anxieties
of interest and of vanity perish in the blaze of
more vigorous emotions, and where the human!
soul, having felt and recognized its objects, like art
animal that has tasted the blood of its prey, cannot
descend to pursuits which leave its talents and its
force unemployed. Proper occasions alone^ ope
rating on a raised and a happy disposition, can
produce this admirable effect,' whilst mere instruc
tion may always find mankind at a loss to compre
hend its meaning, or insensible to its dictates.
" The case, however, is not desperate, till we
have formed our system of polities as well as of
manners, till we have sold our freedom for titles,
for equipage, and for distinctions, till we see no
merit but prosperity and power, no disgrace but
poverty and neglect. What cbarm of instruction
can cure the mind which is tainted with this dis-

145
6rder ? What syren voice can awaken* a desire of
freedom, that is held to be meanness and want of
ambition ? Or what persuasion can turn the gri
mace of politeness into real sentiments of huma
nity and of candour ? ¦- j J n«:
' r /
SECT. IV. '
.i i - ' ' . ¦ . ;
On the Apparel, of the Friends.
THE peculiarity of ; dress which the1 Friends
adopt, is not founded on any particular religious
opinion ; for the Friends, like every other judicious
arid sensible people, know full well that the great'
Being, who is no respecter of persons, is able to
see the heart without any aid of external apparel
to tell him the exact quantity of Christianity resi
dent in the wearer; and that if a man cannot get
to heaven in a black, the putting on a brown coat
will not help him forward in his progress towards
a state of bliss. But their peculiarity of garb is
assumed upon the best motives and principles,
even the fear, that if the partition-wall which di
vides their society from the other sects, or portions
of the christian church, be not kept up in full re
pair, but any breaches be made, so that their youth
may escape through the gaps and the holes into
the world, and mix with those of other commu
nions and other persuasions, they may be led into
the paths of profligacy and of dissipation.
L

14(5 1
' Neither can any more valid reason be offeree?
Why the Friends should not adhere to their antient
mode of dress, than why the rest of the world
should not cease from being Whirled about daily
and hourly by the gust of. fashion. A Parisian
beau, of the very first rate, appears clad in altoge
ther different suits of apparel, as to shape, size,
and ornament, every week ; the more steady and
sober Friend continues the same, or nearly the
same, cut and; fashion of his garb, from month to
month, and from year to year, throughout his
whole life. Let the advocate for fashion step for
ward, and tell me what he has to say in defence of
his. friend the Parisian beau, and why it is not
equally incumbent on him, on the ground of rea
son and of common sense, resolutely to discard
his fantastic fooleries, and appear, as to exterior at
least, like a rational animal, as it is upon the Friends
to follow the ever shifting modes of fashion.
But perhaps some one will say, the proper mode
lies in the mean between the two extremes: I must,
for my own part, confess that I think it does; for
as dress can never be easily exalted into a matter of
religious belief or of moral duty, it seems advisable
for a man, while he can do it with decency and
convenience, so to clothe himself as not to be re
marked for the extreme of puppyism and of fop
pery on the one hand, nor on the other for that of

147
affecting any singularity of garb. I am the more
anxious upon this head, with regard to the Friends,
because I am thoroughly convinced, that their ex
cellent early moral and religious education would
effectually prevent them from being deteriorated
by a more intimate intercourse with the world ;
and that the other portions of the community could
not fail of receiving incalculable benefit from be
coming better acquainted with, and continually
witnessing the uprightness, the integrity, the pure
conduct, and the native simplicity and ingenuous
ness of manner, which so peculiarly adorn and re
commend to applause and imitation the members
of the Society.
But taking the facts as they really exist, without
presuming to indulge the pleasing hope, that this
obstacle of external appearance to the more inti
mate union of the Friends with the other portions
of the community will be removed, every one must
allow, that the Friends deserve the praise of the
most scrupulous neatness and cleanliness in their
apparel; a praise far surpassing that which any
other attribute of dress can claim;, for neatness is
the basis on which every comfort of life rests.
The garb of the male Friends, indeed, appears ra
ther too stiff and cumbrous, for that ease and lia
bility of carriage which is equally serviceable to
the possessor, as it is gratifying to the beholder.
L2

14t
But there is so much fascinating simplicity and
neatness in the apparel of the female Friends, that
I know not by what change they could render
their external appearance more interesting, unless;
indeed, it was by discarding those cruel incum
brances, which, while they cramp the frame, and
injure the health, offend the eye of the spectator,
by presenting one unvaried line of object, instead
of the easy, undulating swell, which so peculiarly
adorns the fairest of the Creator's works.

SECT. V.
On the Address, or external Manner of the Friends.
THAT the exterior Carriage, and mode of ad
dress, is of great weight as an essential means of
acquiring power, must be evident, when we con
sider that it is the only mode by which we can
come into contact with our fellow-men, and, con
sequently, the chief basis upon which must rest all
the influence over their opinion, which we can ob
tain by personal intercourse.
The address of the male Friends is open, inge
nuous, and manly j more, however, adapted to the
manners of the Roman and the Spartan, than to
the softer modes of external conduct which mpt
dcrn .habits require. The manners of the female

149
Friends are so full of gentleness, na'iveti, simplicity,
modesty, and interesting, fascinating artlessnessj
that every benevolent heart would think tbem but
ill exchanged for the more showy and imposing
qualities of fashionable breeding, which may, in
deed, play about, and amuse the fancy of the spec?
tator, but can never reach. his heart. Even the
little peculiarities of speech, adopted by the Friends t
create the utmost interest, when pronounced by
the lips of a beautiful woman, whose features glow
with all the heavenly charms of intellect and virtue.
Nay, those female Friends who, contrary to the
general usage of the Society, mix much with the
fashionable world, seldom or ever lose that inte
resting simplicity of manner which heightens every
grace, sheds the mild lustre of benignity over
every charm, and binds the amaranthine wreath of
willing affection round the heart of all who ap
proach, and participate in the bliss of their inter
course. I would just notice here, that the sangfroid, the
nonchalance, the affectation of indifference, and
total want of attention to the interests of others,
which is deemed by some to be a mark of good-
breeding and of fashion, is, in reality, a very severe
libel on the understanding and the heart of these
very well bred people : for what can be more com~
L3

156
pletely cruel, than to shew, by yotir manner, that
the persons in company with yOu are so utterly in
significant and unworthy of notice, as not to be
capable of attracting even that degree of attention
from you,1 which common Civility and common de
cency demand ? Add to Which, the habit of not
attending to surrounding objects is the most certain
method of securing a very abundant portion of ig
norance, a very plentiful lack of understanding;
for, since all their materials of knowledge must be
derived by the inlets of the senses, they surely can
not acquire any very great extent of information,
who never exercise their perceptive faculty on pre
sent objects. Hence this fashionable indifference
and inattention is both the effect and the cause of*
ignorance ; the effect, in not knowing how much
knowledge is acquired by observing every single
expression of the countenance, every gesture of the
body, every tone of the voice, of those with whom
we come in contact ; the cause, by closing up all
the avenues of information which are opened by an
observation always alive, an attention always upon
the alert.
It ought also to have some weight with these
people, to be told that, by this inattention, they
deprive themselves of the opportunity of acquir
ing a great quantity of power, even all the power
which a more benevolent and a more sensible mode

151
of conduct would infallibly ensure to them, by ob
taining an extensive influence over the good opi
nion of all those whose contempt and disgust they
now universally excite, by their awkward and bru
tal behaviour.

SECT. VI.
On the Occupation of the Friends.
THE occupation, or mode in which the Friends
employ their time, I shall consider under three
heads, each of which will occupy a separate-sec
tion, namely, business, study, and recreation. Some
remarks on the first of these heads will occupy the
present section.
The religious tenets of the Friends prevent them
from entering into the army and navy, owing to
their truly christian abhorrence of all bloodshed
and violence ; from the church, the law, and of
fices under government, they are also excluded,
by their conscientiously declining the imposition Of
an oath. Of the professions, then, -as they are ge
nerally called, there only remains one, medicine,
which their peculiar opinions will permit them to
follow. In the higher department of medicine, that of a
L 4

152
f»hysiCian,the .Fr/Wf hayeto boast of Dr. Fother-
gill, whose name, both professional and as- a man
•filling up the duties of his social character, attach
ed to itself the; greatest respectability,, not only in
the British empire, but also throughout the other
kingdoms of the civilized world. The Society also
possesses, among its members, many able physicians
of the present day, whom I forbear to name, lest
the omission of any gentleman, whose merit might
deserve notice, but who might be unknown to me,
owing to the very limited extent of my information
and acquaintance, might seem to confine the meed '
of applause to those only whom I mention, and
imply the exclusion of all those whom I pass over
in silence.
In the other departments of medicine, namely,
as surgeons, apothecaries, and obstetricians, the
Friends bear their just proportion to the rest of the
community, in number, integrity, and skill. I
would Only remark, that I think the custom, too
prevalent among the Friends, of sending young
gentlemen as apprentices to an apothecary, byway
of preparation for their becoming physicians, is not
Judicious: for a lad cannot possibly learn much
more, under the tuition of an apothecary,. than the
art of compounding medicines, a piece of informa
tion which may easily be acquired by any one (not
quite an idiot) in, three months ; medical practice

113
they have little or no opportunity of seeing, and,
above all, are not furnished with the means of ac
quiring extensive knowledge, and that range of ca
pacity which is so peculiarly necessary to consti
tute an accurate and an able physician.
It should seem a more advisable method, to give
the candidate for the iEsculapian honours a liberal
education, and then (since the tenets of the Friend*
forbid them to send their children to either of the
English universities, or that of Ireland, on account
of some oaths, and other forms necessary to be
submitted to by the students: in those seminaries
of learning) permit them to attend the medical
school in London ; after which, I know not that
they can do better than study the appointed time
at Glasgow or at Edinburgh.
The other modes of business which occupy the
attention of the Friends, may be comprehended
under two heads, those of farming and of mer
chandise. 1 know not that I am correct as to the statement
of the fact ; but, by reasoning a priori, I should be
led to conclude, that a fair and a just proportion of
the Friends do not betake themselves to agricul
ture; that is, a less number than would become
farmers if the competition was left quite? open. At

154
present, the Friends certainly do not start on level
ground with the other portion of the community
as to the agricultural calling ; because, by their
conscientious refusal pf paying tithes, they subject
themselves to the miserable expedient of an annual
distress, at least; whose inconvenience and expence
must be a continual drain upon the profits of their
capital employed in tilling the ground, and, con
sequently, prevent them from putting in motion so
much productive industry by the exercise of a
given quantity of stock.
But no one willingly subjects himself to con
tinued vexation and anxiety, and to needless waste
of property ; therefore I should imagine the Friends
mostly engage in commercial- pursuits,- in which
they arc not so liable- to the demands of the esta
blished clergy.
Upon stating' this question- to a Friend, he said,
— "Thy reasoning might be ingenious for aught
I know, but it is not correct, for the facts are
against thee ; inasmuch as a greater proportion of
the Society betake themselves to farming, than to
any other pursuit ; and I am not clear, that if it was
known any Friend declined becoming a farmer on
account of the burden of tithes, whether or not the
Society would disoWn him for refusing to take up
•the cross;"- • "

155
Thus stands the matter ; I have the affirmation
of a Friend against my reasoning ; which weighs
the heaviest in the balance, fact, or mere conjec
ture, canriot require many words to prove ; and so
I leave it.
Their dealings in the way of commerce are very
extensive ; and, from their unwearied industry,
strict integrity, and never-failing punctuality, the
Friends have entailed a perpetuity of esteem and of
respectability upon themselves as merchants and
tradesmen. I never knew any one who had com
mercial transactions with a Friend once, who did
not wish to transact business with him again. A
little child is just as safe in their hands, as to all the
concerns of traffic and of barter, as is the most
experienced trader. Of what incalculable advan
tage such a mighty mass of ingenuity, honesty,
and labour, continually floating in the community,
must be productive to this country in particular,
and also to the world at large, 1 need not mention
to those who possess even the most mediocral
powers of political arithmetic.

156
SECT. VII.
On the Mode of Study among the Friends.
IT is particularly enjoined by the Friends (as I
collect from the Book of Extracts, from Barclay,
and some other works, and also from what actual
observation I have been able to make on the pro-'
ceedings of the Society for some years past), that
their members be particularly careful to provide a
good and useful education for their children; that
they train them up in the nurture and admonition
of the Lord ; in that plainness of conduct and of
language which become truth ; and breed them up
to some necessary and useful employments;
In pursuance of these injunctions, the children
among the Friends are universally trained up ac
cording to the precepts of morality and the dic
tates of the gospel (of course, as taught by their
own peculiar people; for, if they conscientiously
believe their own tenets to be the best, with what
honesty or justice can they deprive their offspring
of their most inestimable privilege and birth-right,
that of a pure accordance with the spirit of Christ ?)
are early instructed in the scriptures, and are ge
nerally treated with that tenderness and kindness
which is, more than any thing on earth, calculated

157
to inspire in the human mind a love of virtue and
of religion.
The children are also advised to be taught some
modern tongues, as French, High and Low Dutch,
Danish/ &c. for the purpose of diffusing the truth
in foreign countries, if at any after period it shall
please the Lord to incline them to be of service to
the church. They are early to be taught the va
nity and emptiness of fading and transitory enjoy
ments, and that only the practice of true religion
and virtue can afford any durable and solid satis
faction. The youth are not to frequent play
houses, and other wicked places ; nor to have imv
moral books put into their hands, &c. &c.
In consequence of these, and some other direc
tions, which may be found by a reference to Bar
clay, the Book of Extracts, and other writings, and
also by actual examination of their mode of in
struction, all the Friends (for they make very little
distinction between the education of the rich and
the poor among them) are taught the elements of
revelation and morality, and the common rudi-,
ments of knowledge, such as reading, writing,
arithmetic, geography, and, as it seems, a few mo
dern tongues ; a little Latin perhaps, and less
Greek ; of the pure and the mixed sciences, I ap
prehend not too much, for the youth are generally

158
employed, early in life, in some commercial pur
suits : at least, I am led to infer, that the diffusion
of science and of literature is not very abundant in
the Society, from the infrequency of any publica
tions, in either of these departments of intellect,
appearing by the hands of the Friends. I do not
comprehend the writings, which are generally
known in the Society by the name of Friends books,
under either of these heads ; for, although they are
indispensably necessary for children, as containing
the first principles of religion and moral duty, they
certainly cannot lay claim to any pretensions as
containing much either of literary or of scientific
information. The females among the Friends are instructed
in all the great duties of morality and religion, are
taught all that can make women useful and lovely
in domestic life; but perhaps they also, as well as
the males, might become more extensively useful
members of the community, if the too scrupulous
avoidance of a wider and a more ample range of
information were somewhat relaxed in its strictness
and rigour.
Without meaning to cast the least shadow of
imputation or of censure upon the Friends, or to
manifest the least presumption th,at my opinions
are more correct than theirs upon this most impor-

159
tant of all subjects, the education' of youth, I shall
proceed to offer a few hints as to the mode of in-<
struction which I should wish., to see, in some mea
sure, adopted by the rising generation of all per
suasions, merely because I am at present persuaded
that it would most materially tend to the advance
ment of the whole human race towards a higher
degree of power, of virtue, and of happiness.
It cannot be expected that I should enter mi
nutely into a subject so very extensive as that of
education. I shall, therefore, content myself with
merely stating what I think phjldren ought to
learn, and the effects which those things that 1
recommend to be taught, are calculated to pro
duce upon the human mind.
The object proposed by all legitimate and pro
per education is to enable the person educated to
acquire the greatest quantity of power of which
the peculiar circumstances of his situation will ad
mit, and to use that power well. There can be
no doubt that it is the duty of every one to strive
to the utmOst of his exertion to alleviate the hu
man misery which every, where presses on his at
tention, and to diffuse virtue and happiness all
around him. But this cannot be done without
the combined aid of physical and of moral power.
There must be the universal medium of exchange,

l6"0
the great lever of this world, or something equiva
lent to it, in order to enable us to relieve the tem
porary wants of the necessitous, and to Support the
aspiring energies of indigent genius, till they are
sufficiently strong not only to stand without assist*
ance, but also to extend the arm of protection to
others ; for the mere wishes of a benevolent heart
go but a very little way towards alleviating human
misery, unless they are built on the solid basis of
substantial physical relief: if I say unto the hun
gry, be filled, or to the naked, be clothed, arid:
give not wherewithal to clothe and to fill them,'
what profiteth it ? There must be also moral power,
that is, the superintending influence of a well-
regulated understanding, in order judiciously to
direct those donations which the purposes of Cha
rity might demand.
It is, therefore, most essentially the object of
education to teach every human being (in what
ever situation of life he may first see the light,
whether he be lulled to repose on the gorgeous
couch of a princely habitation, or cradled in the
cot of the simple villager), that it is his first, his
indispensable duty to better his condition, and by
every honourable and upright means to endeavour
to rise above the rank of life in which he was born,
in order to widen his circle of action, and, conse
quently, augment his capacity of imparting aid

i6l
arid happiness to his fellow creatures ; for no hu
man being can possibly rise in the ascending scale
of life, without continually putting in motion a
great mass of happiness, by blessing all those
around him, if his heart be properly trained,' and
his mind rightly instructed, which it must be to
enable him to fulfil the second great end of edu
cation, the judicious and benevolent use of power.
There can be no such thing as desiring power
abstractedly, merely for itself; it can only be
sought after for the purpose of exercising it : con
sequently, the vicious will pursue it, for the pur
pose of abusing it, in order to gratify their own
evil inclinations, while the good will endeavour to
obtain it for the sole purpose of giving full scope
for the exertion of their most exalted and benevo
lent views of augmenting the happiness of man
kind. Hence the indispensable necessity of an
early proper education to direct the human mind
to the means of most effectually using its power
to promote the greatest quantity of benefit and
bliss, which any given circumstances of situation
can possibly allow.
" To catch dame Fortune's golden smile,
Assiduous wait upon her,
And gather gear by every wile
That's justified by honour.
M Not

i6"2
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
Or for a train attendant,
But for the glorious privilege
Of being independant."
It should never be forgotten, that the comrilu'-»
nity is made up of individuals, and that in exact
proportion as each individual performs his duty
in that particular department of life which he fills;
prospers the strength of the community. It is
from not knowing, or, at least, from not acting
upon this simple but important truth, that so
much human ability is wasted upon idle and un
profitable speculation. If every private individual
in Great Britain (instead of troubling his head and
consuming his time and talents in attending to
the affairs of the nation, in thinking and discours
ing about ministers, generals, secretaries of state,
foreign ambassadors, &c. &c.) would assiduously
endeavour to fill up the full measure of his duty
as father, husband, brother, son,, master, or ser
vant, both the physical and the moral strength of
the British empire must necessarily, in the course
of one generation (i. e. in the period of about
twenty-five years), be augmented in a ratio beyond
all power of human calculation.
Yet so little aware are men in general of this
truth, that they seem, in their actions, not to con-

163
sider themselves as a part of the mass of society ;
for, if you talk to them about the necessity of an
enlarged system of education (or any other mea
sure of public utility), they perhaps readily assent
to the truth of your position, and say that the
community ought to put such a desirable purpose '
in execution, but never deem it incumbent on
each of themselves, as an individual, to act his part
towards forwarding the attainment of the end in
question ; whereas, that is all which can be re
quired or expected, and, if complied with, would
at once accomplish all of general and of national
good that the most enlarged understanding and
the most benevolent heart can desire.
Let each individual endeavour to give the best
possible education to those committed to his care,
and we shall soon see the whole community reap
ing the most abundant harvest of a collective aug
mentation of national power and of national hap
piness. Before I proceed to state what I conceive proper
to be taught on a liberal and an enlarged plan of
education, I would premise, that it is essentially
necessary to'treat children uniformly with tender
ness and gentleness, in order to promote their pro
gress in virtue and- understanding. Nothing can
be more barbarous and absurd than the usual
M2

164
mode of scolding arid beating poor little defence
less babes, for not comprehending that which pro
bably a single smile, or one soft Word, would have
enabled them to Understand, but which the frown
and the lash have utterly prevented them from
learning. If perfect love casteth out fear, I am
sure that perfect fear casteth out love, and those
preceptors and teachers are miserably mistaken in
their calculations, who imagine, that either the
heart of any created being is rendered better, or
its mind strengthened by the infliction of cruelty
and violence.
I am well aware that Solomon very strenuously
recommends the use of bodily punishment, and al!
succeeding ages have paid so much deference to
this advice of Israel's sapient king, that there is
very little chance of the breed of the Orbilii ever
becoming extinct. But notwithstanding all the
deference due to so very respectable an authority
as that of Solomon, I must confess that I am de^
cidedly against the custom of inflicting bodily pain
on children, for these two reasons, namely, that it
injures the mind, and corrupts the heart.
The human mind never wilfully recals to its
recollection any painful emotions; but always
dwells with delight on pleasurable associations of
ideas; consequently the system of pain must be

165
a less powerful instrument of education than that of
pleasure, since we always avoid calling up those
images that are associated with painful sensations,
and eagerly bring back to remembrance those
which are associated with pleasurable emotions:
Hence, if two boys were taught any one species of
knowledge, a Greek line, for instance, and one
had it lashed into him, while the other was induced
to learn it by the smile of affection, there can be
no doubt that the boy who was flogged would for
get the line as fast as he possibly could ; because,
whenever he recalled it to his recollection, the
flogging, a most painful and humiliating sensation,
which must D-e intimately associated with the line,
would be called up with it ; therefore, if he
could possibly avoid it, he would never call up
that line : whereas, the other boy could never re
member the line, without, at the same time, re
membering the smile of affection which wa9
strongly associated with it, and, consequently,
would gladly seize every opportunity of recalling
it to his recollection, because the human mind is
peculiarly prompt to retrace and to dwell upon
pleasurable emotions and images.
Add to this, that every lash corrupts and de
grades the heart, by destroying that nice sense of
shame, which is one of the strongest safeguards of
M3

166
virtue, and; pollutes the soul with all the vilest pas
sions of fear, hatred, and desire of revenge.
- We can never compel people to be good and
virtuous : we may, by terror and by cruelty, deter
them from the actual commission of some wrong,
from .the ostensible display of some bad action ;
but this is not virtue; for he who abstains from
an evil act only through fear, is equally guilty as
though he had committed it, in the sight of God,
with whom thoughts are actions. The motive,
the spring to action, which is in reality the virtue
or the vice,' is the same in both instances ; and,
consequently, the father who fancies that his, child
is good, because he has not disobeyed him through
the fear of being lashed, and from no other motive,
is mistaken, since the child's heart remains the
same; for if the terror of the rod was rcmoyed, he
would commit the crime. Hence,then, we are
led to this great and important, truth, that human
beings can be taught virtue only. by kindness.
.: But do we act upon this invaluable truth in our
mode of educating children? Do we endeavour,
by every means in our power, to promote the hap
piness, and to increase' the virtue, of our offspring?
No, quite the contrary: scarcely a habitation exists
in this kingdom, which is not the slaughter-house
of delicacy and benevolence. The finest feelings

167
of the little babes, the feelings which are the only
sources of knowledge and of goodness, are conti
nually tortured and wounded, and, consequently,
in time rendered callous by our behaviour towards
them. We silence their little artless inquiries with a
look of insolent contempt, and then affect to won
der that they are saddened and depressed : we
damp the ardour of infantine curiosity by superci
lious reproof, and are astonished at their want of
knowledge, and their absence from all desire of
acquiring improvement : we repress their innocent
caresses by a frown, and are amazed at their shy
ness : we inflict cruel bodily tortures on them, for
errors or omissions proceeding from ignorance, not
wickedness; and are angry at their having no lon
ger the ingenuous openness of unsuspecting con
fidence, but complain that they are sly, cunning,
and deceitful.
That virtue which cannot be taught by kind
ness will never be enforced by blows ; for blows
only rouze a powerful mind into resentment and-
indignation, and awe weak and timid understand
ings into abject cowardice and slavery; both which
states preclude the possibility of possessing virtue.
No child, I believe, ever existed, which could
M4

l6S
not be taught to become good, and to perform its
duty, by being treated kindly and gently ; indeed
the withdrawing one smile of accustomed affec
tion, or the Withholding one caress, one little kiss,
will bfe a ten thousand times more effectual i pu
nishment to a child of sensibility and delicacy,
than all the brutality of bodily torture, which may,
and indeed does, always induce anger, hatred,
fear, desire of revenge, deceit, cunning, cruelty,
and every wicked and malignant passion, that serves
to transform the human animal into a wild beast,
which preys upon the vitals, and battens upon the
blood of his fellow-creatures.
Hence is seen the necessity of a system of mild
ness and benevolence in the education of children,
because the human mind can only be raised to
virtue, and to its highest intellectual exertions, by
calling forth the best feelings of the heart, those of
affection^and of gratitude ; but all the world shows,
that neither gratitude nor affection can ever be
incited iri the bosom of a child by being cruelly
beaten and lashed; for in fear there is no love, be
cause fear hath torment : he that feareth is not
made perfect in love.
, I know not of any supposable case in which, a
blow should ever be inflicted on a child, excepting
perhaps where (if Such a thing can happen in a

i6g
child which has been uniformly treated with ten
derness from the first, without any alternations of
kindness and of severity) it positively refuses to
obey the command of its parent or instructor, al
though every attempt has been made to convince its
reason, and to win upon its heart by mild and by
gentle treatment. In such a case, the question
comes to this issue, whether the child or the parent
shall be master ? A question easily answered ; for
the child must always be directed and governed,
till it acquires sufficient strength of mind to go
vern and direct itself, or the whole human race
will be inevitably involved in misery and in desola
tion. > Stubborn audacity then must be overcome; if
it cannot by soothing, it must be done by force;
but the force should always be administered with
coolness and temper, or it is no longer dictated by
the love of justice, but is the offspring of fury and
of passion which only serves to corrupt the child's
heart, by compelling it to attribute its chastise
ment to the brutality of cruelty, and of superior
bodily strength, gratifying its own malignant emo
tions; and not to uprightness, punishing a fault, in
order to prevent its commission for the future, and
to promote both the temporal and the eternal wel
fare of the being who momentarily suffers.

170
;I am thoroughly convinced, that if children were
from the cradle universally and uniformly treated
with kindness and tenderness, and all: the best
feelings of their hearts continually called forth and
cherished, that the aggregate of virtue, of mental
power,, and of happiness, would be incalculably
augmented, and the whole of human society be
lifted up higher in the scale of human perfection;
man would then, all the world over, meet man as
a brother, and greet him as a brother; we might
then see verified in the rearing of children (what I
have never yet seen,' and I fear never shall see)
that exquisite description of brotherly love and
harmony, which I could never read without the
mingled emotions of rapture and of sorrow ; of
rapture at contemplating such a phantasmal form
of ideal bliss; of sorrow, that that bliss was not
likely to be realized.
" They are' as twinn'd lambs that do frjsk i'the sun,
And bleat the one at the other; what they change
Is innocence for innocence ; they know not
The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream
That any do ; if they pursue that life ,
- With stronger blood, they then might answer heaven, -
Boldly, not guilty.
In order to induce men to do what we wish
them to perform, we inust! first fix and arrest their
attention ; arid this effect we can always produce

171
most readily, by exciting pleasurable emotions, be*
cause, as pleasure or happiness is the' businessof
life, the strongest stimulus to action must be de
light. „ I ;"...
; , ; - J
, If this most beneficial truth were attended to,
and acted upon throughout all the departments pf
society, the w.orld would soon wear a very diffe
rent aspect from that which is now present; it
would be a paradise, a garden of felicity, instead of
a wilderness bathed in blood, scarred and deformed
by oppression, avarice, envy, hatred, malice, and
all uncharitableness. .t
All our moral evils, and indeed many of our
physical ills, arise from the system of pain which
we have introduced throughout all the ramifica-i
tions of humanity. From the cradle to the grave
we generally compel the human animal to endure
one continued series of complicated misery ; in
infancy the mother scolds and whips, or indulges
and caresses, the child into pain, terror, envy, ma
lice, stupidity, ignorance, hatred, and a thousand
other deplorable qualifications ; in youth, our pre
ceptors, for the most part, acting upon mistaken
principles, lash the boy into meanness, cowardice*
and ^rascality; in manhood, our want of mutual
charity, , our perspicacity of vigilance in spying out
and blazoning abroad each other's errors and fail-

172
ings, are too apt to create the ungenerous wish, the
selfish scheme, the stern resolve, deaf to the voice
of pity, and all the dark array of hypocrisy and de-.
ceit ; and to close and complete all, some misguide
ed fanatics, who mistake themselves for christians,
stamp the perfection of hopeless agony on the
wretch, by preaching up all the imaginary horrors
of an unknown futurity, and by incessantly thun?
dering in his ears the inevitable vengeance of an
omnipotent and implacable Deity.
All this is done, and we affect to wonder at the
scarcity of honesty, compassion, benevolence, jus
tice, religion ; when we strive, by every possible
means in our power, to stifle and destroy all these
excellencies, which alone can render life felicitous,
and open the gates of a blessed eternity.
Mankind may be led by kindness and mercy,
but cannot be bullied and dragooned into virtue.
Our mild and benignant Saviour taught us this
invaluable lesson by all his words and all his ac
tions ; his whole life, when on earth, was a con
tinued chain of gentleness and tenderness, the
only chain which can bind virtue and religion
round the human heart. Would that those who
are called his disciples, could prevail upon them
selves to imitate this part of their blessed Master's
conduct, and always bear deeply imprinted on their

173
minds, that benevolence and religion ever go hand
in hand ; that, at Creation's birth, their mutual
links of attachment were so inseparably twisted
together, that nought, save the arm of Omnipo
tence itself, can ever rend them asunder.'
It cannot, I should imagine, require any very
great profundity of argument to prove, that that
system of education must be the best, which alike
provides for the evolution of bodily strength and
elegance, and for the expansion of the intellectual
faculties. The body is so intimately connected and
blended with the mind, in this present imperfect
state of existence, that if the frame languishes, and
is out of order, the soul also droops, and is unable
to exert the full measure of her intellectual ener
gies. It is, therefore, necessary that abundance
of wholesome air and exercise be always afforded
to children, in order to preserve their bodies in
the vigour and strength of health. Walking, run
ning, riding, playing at athletic games, as cricket,
foot-ball, racquet, &c. are all admirably calculated
to promote this desirable end; but that easy
carriage of the liinbs, arid that Combination of
strength with elegance, which constitutes grace,
the human frame, I apprehend, can obtain, by no
other means, than that of being early taught to
dance and to fence.

174
Dancing and fencing give the muscles such a
facility of motion, such a versatility of action, as
enables the body to perform all its movements
with pleasure to itself, and with the approbation of
others, as being free from all awkwardness and re
straint. Those who labour under the want of these
very necessary and fascinating accomplishments,
cannot manage their bodies well, and with ease to
themselves, either when steering their way along
the streets, in company, or in a room, however
finished and agreeable they might be, as to their
manners and their address, in every other respect.
These exercises also contribute more than any
other bodily exertions to accelerate the growth and
the strength of the animal frame, and also to the
formation of an easy, correct, and elegant Sym
metry of limb. It must; of course, be provided,
that these beneficial effects be not counteracted by
the pernicious consequences of a scanty and a pre
carious diet, which blasts the shoots of vitality, and
prevents them from expanding into height and
power. The first rudiments of education should be alike
taught to all the human race ; but the great mass
of mankind, whose destiny requires their limbs to
be inured to early toil, and their days to be tried
with early hardships, in order to provide for the

175
tiour that is passing over them, must be contented
only With the first rudiments ; for the present state
of society cannot suffer the wheels of productive
industry to be stayed in their motion, or to be
kept at rest, while the many hands that ought to
move them, are directed to other labours and to
other pursuits. If the villager, or the mechanic,
by any train of fortunate circumstances, aiding and
seconding the exertions of his industry, should
mount in the ascending scale of life, he may, when
comparative affluence shall have given him leisure
and Opportunity, if he then deems it necessary,
proceed to add to the few simple elements which
he had learned in his childhood, other branches of
information; but whilst he remains an indigent
mechanic, or a simple villager, neither his own
wants, nor the incessant demands of the public
upon his labour and ingenuity, will permit him to
devote more than the few first years of life to pur
suits purely intellectual.
Every human being, even those in the very
lowest orders of society, should be taught to read
and write, and to know the useful rules of arith
metic, I mean those rules, the use of which is daily
and hourly required in all the ordinary occurrences
of life. And in addition to these invaluable ac
quirements; every individual should, above all, be
taught, that he is a being in training for immorta-

176
lijby, that upon his exact and constant perforfnance
of the great duties of religion and morality, are
founded his only sure and certain hopes of power
and happiness as an individual : of utility in his
relations to his fellow-men as a social being; of
everlasting bliss in the days which are to cOme, in
those regions of eternity, where the wicked cease
from troubling, and the weary are at rest.
I am not so sanguine and ardent as to expect,
that the poor of any country, under tbe present
aspect of human institutions, should have time
and opportunity to become profound philosophers,
and deeply versed in all the principles of political
wisdom ; but this I expect, that they should be
taught one very important eeconomic truth, which
is, that he who marries before he can maintain a
wife and family, is a public nuisance, and a pes
tiferous burden to the community; because, by so
doing, he brings into the world human beings
only to be born, to breathe awhile, and then to
perish by penury and famine; or (if through mis
taken motives of charity, these beings are clothed
and fed by the misguided interference of others)
to force an equal number of their fellow- creatures
put of existence, if the mass of population in the
country already reaches to the full extent of the
quantity of subsistence in that country.

177
Every one, therefore, be his situation in life
what it may, is bound by every social duty, before
he presumes to enter upon so important and ha
zardous an undertaking as that of matrimony, to
ask himself this question — Have I wherewithal to
support a wife and a family of children ? And if
the answer be in the negative, he must immedi
ately add — then I have no business with a wife and
family, and shall betray the duty which I owe to
my country, if I entail on it the burden of support
ing an additional weight of unproductive industry.
Nay more — it is incumbent on every man not
tb marry, unless he can by so doing at least main
tain that station of life which he fills when single ;
for every man who sinks in the descending scale
of society, by weakening his physical and moral
power, and by diminishing his circle of action,
detracts all that he loses from the strength of the
comtriunity, and is guilty of a dereliction of his
public and social obligations. Whereas, he who
betters his condition, who is continually rising in
the ascending scale of influence and power, is a
benefactor to his country, a supporter of his go
vernment by pecuniary contributions, an aug«
menter of its real and essential strength, by in
creasing the force of its productive industry, an
enlarger of its happiness, by blessing, like the'dews
N

178
of heaven, all that- come within the sphere of his
attraction. Those whose lot is cast in a . happier soil, on
whose birth smiled a more auspicious star, whom
fortune has blessed with more leisure and oppor
tunity to attend to the cultivation of the mind,
must, in addition to the rudiments of knowledge
already mentioned, as necessary for their less fa
voured brethren, proceed to add the more ample
stores of a deeper investigation into the treasures
of science.
I am most" particularly anxious to impress upon
the attention of parents and instructors of youth,
the incalculable advantages derived from directing
and leading children to contemplate and to admire
the works of nature, for the promotion of these
most desirable and beneficial ends, the heighten
ing and strengthening all the powers of the mind,
and the improving and refining all the better and
more noble emotions of the heart.
Being well assured, that the human imagination
can only form combinations of ideas already
known, and that consequently its power is limited
in its exertions by the stock of ideas which the-
mind, through the medium of the senses, has ac-

179
quired, I should endeavour, by every possible
means, to lay up in the repository of my pupil's
brain an abundant store of images; to effect Which
purpose, no means are so admirably calculated as
introducing him to an acquaintance with nature in
all her visible forms.
I would, therefore, take my child, and folding
his little hand in mine, shew him the silver glory
that streams along the glittering sky, what time
the full-orbed moon rises in cloudless majesty, and
hoary mountain cliffs are faintly shining from afar;
and, as his soul was wrapt in wonder, love, and
admiration, at the beauties of the surrounding
scenery, I would say to him— -My child, these are
the glorious works of God, of that Great Being who
made all the universe, who now at this rnomCnt
gives you that happiness and delight which you
feel in contemplating his goodness in the wonders
of his creation. I would then repeat to him, as his
eye was steadily fixed upon heaven's great concave
all on fire,
" Behold the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light;
And not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts'die solemn scene ;
A round her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole ;
N2

ISO"
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver every mountain's head.
Now shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ;
The conscious swains rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light."
I would then induce my child to commit these
lines to memory, to repeat them frequently, to
cherish the images of love, gratitude, joy, devotion,
adoration to. the Supreme Giver of all good, which-
every succeeding repetition must call up with re
newed strength, and in more glowing colours,
since they were formed in his mind together with
an association of every idea tending to delight, to
purify, and to exalt the heart.
I would take him, at early morn, to survey the
uplands, when o'er the sky advanced the kindling
dawn; I would point out to him the crimson
cloud, blue main, and mountain grey, and lake,
dim-gleaming on the smoky lawn ; I would show
him, in the dark east expanded high, the rainbow.
brighten to the setting sun ; I would point his at
tention to the breezy hill that skirts the down, the
flowery waste that confines the ever-dashing wave,
hoarse-swelling on the gale ; the southern moun
tain's easy sweli, whose long long groves eternal
murmur make; I would direct. his eye to the fall

181
of a streamlet toward the western sun, where,
through the cliffs remote, he might survey blue
hills and glittering waves, and skies in gold ar
rayed. All these, I would then say to him, are the
milder forms of the glories of your Maker and
your God ; let it be impressed upon the tablets of
your heart, in the never-dying characters of grati
tude and of devotion, that all which you have seen,
" All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is,, and God the soul ;
That chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth, as iri th' ethereal frame ;
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ;
Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent ;
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart ;
As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns,
As the rapt seraph that adores and burns ;
To him no high, no low, no great, no small,
He fills, He bounds, connects, and equals all."
And when a few more years had strengthened
the understanding of my darling child, 1 would
open to his view all the grander and the more ter
rific forms of Nature; I would lead him to walks
of wider circuit, and of ampler range. I would
shew him the barren heaths, the pines that wave
N3

182
their dark tops o'er the hills, the rugged jnoun-
tain that hears unmoved above the tempest's roar,
and sees the raging billows break beneath ; I would
bid him see the setting moon, in crimson dyed,
bang o'er the dark and melancholy deep; I would
bid him view the foam that caps the billowy deep,
and survey the Welkin's hue, ere the dark storm
begins to rave; I would lead him, at the starless,
midnight hour, when winter rules with boundless
sway supreme, to listen to the storms that tear the
forest, to the, thunders that rend the howling air,
and the doubling roar of the billows surging on the
rocky shore ; I would lead him, after the winter-
tempest had ceased to howl along the sky, to roam
the snowy waste at even, and behold the cloud
stupendous from the Atlantic wave, high towering
sail along the horizon blue; I would lead him on
ward to the sounding shore, and bid him listen,
with pleasing dread, to the deep roar of the wide-
weltering waves ; I would lead him to witness the
rifting of the rocks, when lightnings play ; the
.crash of desolation, when mad tornadoes sweep the
Indian isles ; the rolling of the thunder, echoing
from rock to rock amid the alpine heights; the
howling of the storm, as it sweeps over the agitated
ocean, when the midnight -hour breathes a darker
horror o'er the deep ; the tumultuous roar Of con
flicting waves, at whose every tremendous pause,
and dreadful interval, the shrieks of the dying, as

183
they descend to be entombed in the watery gulph
below, are borne along the sullen gale, smite upon
the saddened ear, and pierce the agonizing heart.
While all these scenes filled his soul, and bore
it aloft above the confines of humanity, I would
join with him in repeating the song of praise,
which "an unfortunate, and (too fatally for her
peace) a misguided woman poured forth to her
Creator, as she stood wrapt in wonder beneath the
Alpine precipice o'erhung with pine, and saw, on
high, amidst the encircling groves, from cliff to
cliff the foaming torrents , shine, while waters,
woods, and winds the ..concert joined, and echo
swelled the chorus to the skies.

" Creation's God ! — with thought elate,
Thy hand divine I see,
Impress'd on scenes where all is great,
Where all is full of Thee.
Where stern the Alpine mountains raise
Their heads of massy snow ;
Whence, on the rolling storm I gaze,
That hangs — how far below !
Where, on some bold, stupendous height,
The eagle sits alone ;
Or, soaring, wings his sullen flight
To haunts yet more his own.
N4'

184
Where the .sharp rock the chamois treads,
Or slippery summit scales ;
Or where the whit'ning snow-bird spreads
Her plumes to icy gales.
Where the rude cliff's steep column glows
With morning's tint of blue ;
Or evening on the glacier throws
The rose's blushing hue.
Or where, by twilight's softer light,
The mountain-shadow bends ;
And, sudden, casts a partial night.
As black its form descends.
Where the full ray of noon alone,
Down the deep valley falls ;
Or' where the sunbeam never shone
Between its rifted walls.
Where cloudless regions calm the soul,
Bid mortal care be still ;
Can passion's wayward wish control,
And sanctify the will.
Where, 'midst some vast expanse, the mind,
Which swelling-virtue fires,
Forgets that earth it leaves behind,
. And to its heaven aspires.
Where, far, along, the desart sphere,
Resounds no creature's call';
And, undisthrbing mortal ear,
The avalanches fall.
Where, rushing from their snowy source,
The daring torrents urge
Their loud-ton'd water's headlong course,
And lift their feathery surge.

186
Where swift the hues of ljght and shade
Flit o'er die lucid lake ;
Or the shrill winds its breast invade,
And its green billows wake.
Or where the dang'rpus path-way leads
High o'er the gulph profound,
From whence the shrinking eye recedes,
Nor finds repose around.
Or where the mountain ash reclines
Along the clifted rock ;
Where firm the dark, unbending pines
The howling tempests mock.
Where, level with the ice-ribb'd bound,
The yellow-harvests glow ;
And vales, with purple vines are crown'd* ¦
Beneath impending snow.
Or where the minerals catch the ray
With varying lustre bright,
And glittering fragments strew the way
With sparks of liquid light.
Or v^here the moss forgets to creep,,
Where loftier summits rear
Their untrod snows, and frozen sleep
Locks all th' uncolour'd year.
In every scene, where every hour
Sheds some terrific grace ;
In Nature's vast o'erwhelming power,
Thee,- Thee, my God, I trace."
This attentive observation of whatever is beau
tiful or new, sublime or dreadful, in earth, sea, or

]&6-
sky, should- be assiduously cultivated throughout
the whole career of life. When the mind and the
heart of my child had been sufficiently elevated
and expanded, by the contemplation of Nature's
milder and her more awful forms, I would, while
the heavenly impressions were still glowing in their
warmest tints upon his soul, direct his attention also
to other subjects, which must necessarily call forth
the best moral feelings of his nature, the feelings of
exalted honour, of raised courage, of extended be
nevolence, of ardent affection, of throbbing grati
tude, of pure devotion, of aU that renders man use
ful and great in his individual, and in his social
capacity.^ ...
I would turn his young mind to those pursuits
which lift him up above the contaminations of a
degraded world ; I would teach him, by my con
duct, by my precepts, by the questions which I
proposed for the subjects of his meditation, that
wisdom and virtue aretnot to be acquired, by fol
lowing in the train of the world's great throng of
heedless dissipation and contemptible vanity ; by
flying from one circle of folly to another ; by low,
trifling, and debasing conversation ; by bowing to
the gaudy glare of the external man, and not, pe
netrating- into the recesses of the human heart, and
correctly scanning the springs and motives of ac
tion ; but that they are to be obtained only by aii

r rff:.ff.Jf6.-,.

187
*
unwearied attention to pure and intellectual pur
suits, and by frequent recurrence to solitude, where
man might commune with his own heart, and be
Still. ,;.ji..
I would continually instil into his mind, that
dissipation and profligacy stifles every virtuous sen
timent ; that, the dominion of reason is lost amidst
the intoxications of pleasure, that its voice is no
longer heard, its authority no longer obeyed : that?
when once the flood-gates of immorality and of
vice are lifted up, the mind no longer strives to
stem the torrent of temptation, but is carried away
by the full tide of lawless passion into the gulph of
destruction : that, then, the precepts of religion*
are forgotten ; that when man is engaged in a va
riety of nugatory pursuits, entranced in the deli
rium of sensual gaiety and of turbulent pleasure,
inflamed in that continual ebriety which rouzes all
the passions, and stimulates all the desires; — that,
in those hours, and in those seasons, the sacred and
the hallowed ties, which bind man to his God, are
loosened ; that the first, and the only source of true
felicity is .abandoned ; that the faculty of reason is
renounced, and that the great moral and religious
duties are laid low in the dust, and spurned by the
unlicenced foot of practical infidelity and blas-
• ????« pheining sacrilege.

188
I would most earnestly and impressively teach
my child, as a candidate for earthly virtue, and for
immortal glory, that he who enters into a serious
self-examination ; elevates his thoughts, on all occa
sions, in silence towards his God ; who considers
the amphitheatre of nature, the spangled firrna--
ment of heaven, the boundless expanse of the dark-
heaving main, the verdant meads, gay and enam-
melled with flowers, the stupendous mountains,
and the wild whispering of the woods, all as the.
temples of the Divinity ; who directs the secret
emotions of his heart to the Great Author and Go
vernor of all created things ; who has continually:
before his eyes the beamings of an enlightened and
an Almighty Providence ; — -that such a man musty
mostassuredly, have already learned how to fulfil
all his duties to his fellow-men, and to bow, in sin
cerity of heart, in singleness, and in truth, before
the throne of HIM who liveth for ever and ever.
I would teach him, that the pure enjoyments of
a benevolent heart always give birth to the most
exalted and the most refined sentiments of reli
gion ; that a simple, an innocent, and a tranquil
life, a hand unstained with plunder, a soul unde
fended by violent and malignant passions, alone-
can enable the heart to lift itself up to its Maker
and its Redeemer; that the contemplation of the.

189
works of nature and pf God fills all the soul with
religious devotion, and that the highest effect of
religion is calriiness and tranquillity.
And, lastly, I would teach the child committed
to my care that, when the heart is penetrated with
true sentiments of religion, the mere external and
adventitious circumstances of the world lose all
their fancied charms, and fade away into evanes
cence, as the beams of virtue dawn upon the soul;
that then the bosom feels with less anguish the
miseries and the torments inseparably attached to
human nature ; that the noise and the tumultuous
hurry of the world is heard like thunder at a dis
tance rolling away upon the blast, like the mur
muring noise of waters afar off, the tumbling of
whose billows we perceive as its waves break
against, and are dashed all to shivers, at the rug
ged base of that rock of ages, on whose summit
we stand, and calmly survey the fury of the storm,
Which wastes itself in idle ragebeneath our feet!
*' Hail awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast,
And woo the weary to profound repose !
• Can Passion's wildest uproar lay to rest,
And whisper comfort to the man of woes !
Here Innocence may wander, safe from, foes,
And Contemplation soar on seraph wings ;
0 Solitude ! the man who thee foregoes,
When lucre lures him, or ambition. stings,
Shall never know the source whence real grandeur springs. >

190.
: '« Vain man, is grandeur given to gay attire ?
' Then let the butterfly thy pride upbraid :
To friends, attendants, armies bought with hire ?
It is thy weakness which requires their aid : i
To palaces, with gems and gold inlaid ?
They fear the thief, and tremble in the storm :
To hosts, through carnage, who to conquest wade ? -
Behold the victim vanquished by the worm!
Behold what deeds of woe the locust can perform !
" True dignity is his>, whose tranquil mind
Virtue has raised above the things below;
Who, every hope and fear to Heaven resign'd,
Shrinks not, tho' Fortune aim her deadliest blow.
" The end and the reward of toil is rest;
Be, all my prayer for virtue, and for peace.
Of wealth and fame, of pomp and power possess'd,
Who ever felt' his weight of woe decrease!
Ah! what avails the lore of Rome and Greece,
The lay, heaven-prompted, and harmonious string,
The dust of Ophir, and the Tyrian fleece,
All that art, fortune, enterprize can bring,
If envy, scorn, remorse, or pride, the bosom wring?"
It may not be, perhaps, altogether useless to
endeavour to explain why such sublime effects are
produced by contemplating the grander and more
awful objects of nature. It appears to me that we
owe these thrilling, heavenly sensations to the
exertions of our imagination, which is rouzed into
energetic action by having these stupendous ef
forts of creative power offered to the cognizance
of our senses.

i-gr
The impression received from objects addressed
to our more refined senses never fails to impart the
purest delight ; this pleasure, no doubt, at an early
period of life, is chiefly owing to novelty, which
peculiarly fits objects for giving that strong im
pression and energy to the mind, which renders
her conscious Of her own exertions, a circumstance
always productive of high and elevated enjoyment.
Hence, in infancy and childhood, we derive the
greatest delight from the impressions made on our
minds, by sensible objects.
But, as the career of life advances, novelty gra
dually recedes, the pleasurable impression, wont
to be made by external objects, is diminished, and,
perhaps, in process of time, becomes nearly anni
hilated ; whence the mind is imperceptibly, but
necessarily, led to turn its eye inward upon itself,
and to derive its pleasures from a different source.
, The pleasure which we derive from beautiful
objects depends chiefly upon the impression which
they make upon the senses ; but the ideas derived
from this source, when stored up in the mind, be
come purified and refined by that divine part of
our constitution, and form proper materials On
which the imagination may work. It is from the
collection, combination, and arrangement of these

19*
purified ideas, that our chiefestf enjoyments, subli-
auty, and fancy, arise.
In order to prove this, we have only to bear in
our- recollection this simple metaphysical truth,
that the mind can only attend to single impressions!
at once, that is, only one impression at a time.
That the ocean Wrought into a tempest is a su
blime object, no orie, I presume, will be so hardy
as to deny : but here our two most refined senses'
are impressed at the same instant ; the-rparing of
the waves strikes upon our ear, the tumbling bil
lows upon our sight; consequently, we cannot
have a distinct, defined image of all these various'
impulses at the same time. Our attention, alto
gether necessary to clearness of perception, cannot'
be arrested by any particular object in a continu
ally rolling body of Waters, whose indeterrninate
extent,-and loud-resounding roar, add to our un
certainty. Under these circumstances, the mind,
rendered impatient by the irksOme'ness of suspense,
calls up those images which correspond to the im-'
pressions, and Pagination' firiishes thatt picture*
which the senses had only rudely sketched.
i Objects of vast magnitude, also, are sublime;'
but in the contemplation of ; such objects we can
not have a distinct image of the whole. The aw*-1

193
ful and sublime objects of the Alpine hills, or the
interminable chain of mountains known by the
name of the Andes, present to our organs of sen
sation a vast variety of subordinate images, as,
light and shade, woods, rocks, snow, a continual
succession of lofty, towering summits, the outline
of which is but indistinctly defined, dimly and
imperfectly descried. These objects are,' in very
truth, sublime, and to the indistinctness of the im
pression which they make upon our senses, is their
sublimity owing ; for, could we at once take in
and comprehend clearly and satisfactorily all, the
parts of which such objects are composed, could
we receive from them such a determinate and dis
tinct impression as to be capable of arresting and
fixing the attention, although beauty might remain
sublimity would vanish.
Hence, those colours whose impression is the
weakest, and the least calculated to engage the at
tention, increase the sublimity of natural objects;
hence the dark and obscure cloud of night's murky
veil adds to the sublimity, whilst it detracts from
the beauty of nature. Perhaps the lofty and the
sublime flights of imagination and of fancy, which
bore aloft on the wing of fire the genius of Homer
and of Milton, could never have been reached,
unless (owing to the attention being deprived of
its greatest incentive to action, visible nature) the
O

194
imagination, by being proportionally more exer
cised, had attained its highest degree of perfection.
The same mode of reasoning will be found
equally applicable to explain the cause of the sub
limity produced by certain combinations of sounds.
Sounds are either articulate or musical : to con
stitute the first class of sounds, distinctness, and
that energy which rouses the attention, are neces
sary ; the second class is either a combination of
various sounds, delicately and imperceptibly blend
ed together, which is called harmony, or a simple
succession of various notes, melting slowly into
each other, which is termed melody. In articulate
language, in' order to make a strong impression
upon the attention, the different sounds of which
it is composed, are never imperceptibly blended
together, but each articulation is suddenly checked,
and expectation awakens attention. Hence, arti
culate language, though often beautiful, can never
be sublime. The roll of the Grecian thunder can
only be the cause of sublimity by exciting the
imagination to call up those images which produce
a sublime effect.
But by musical sounds the attention is lulled to
rest, and the pleasing impressions imparted to the
mind excite the energy of the imagination ; and
the delicate, soft blending of the notes, though it

195
may renovate the pleasure arising from the impres
sion, is too faint and indistinct to dissipate (by
rousing the attention) the aerial forms of waking
fancy. Exquisite poetry, incorporated in appro
priate musical expression, is peculiarly calculated
to excite in the mind ideas of sublimity; but, in
such case, it is impossible to receive any distinct
images from the various impulses made at the
same time upon the senses.
Harmony, whose effect tends to lull the atten
tion to rest, still more than melody, excites in our
minds the most sublime emotions, on the same
general principle as that above laid down, which
also applies to various other combinations of
sounds, as the roaring of a storm through a wood,
in which the sound is continually and impercep
tibly varying, and, consequently, of which no dis
tinct and determinate idea can be formed, but
which impresses the mind with an awful sublimityi
The howling of the wind over the ocean excites in
sensible and contemplative minds ideas of such an
august grandeur as mere perception could never
afford; but at the same time the attention is inac
tive; for the mariner, whose imagination such im
pressions are inadequate to rouse into action, is
rocked to slumber by the blast.
From these positions, then, we may conclude,
O 2

196
that those sensations which are beautiful are de
rived from the mere perception of proper objects,
and (when the working of the imagination is re
strained by attention) from the action of the mind
employed in taking cognizance of such perception ;
that ideas of sublimity are produced by certain
combinations of images, treasured up and purified
by the mind, from those circumstances which al
ways degrade sensible objects ; that those objects
which make an undefined and indistinct pleasur
able impression upon the senses, without awaken
ing the vigilance of the attention, create in us.
ideas of sublimity by exciting the imagination to
complete what the senses cannot perform ; and
that the delight and extacy which we enjoy from
those images that fancy forms are as much supe
rior to the pleasure which we receive in contem
plating objects merely beautiful, as the operations
of the mind are more elevated and refined thaa
those of the senses.
I would have my pupil taught the English lan
guage correctly and grammatically: I know no
better book for this purpose than Lindley Mur
ray's English Grammar, a work, the universality
of whose diffusion renders all observation as to its
merits on my part unnecessary and superfluous.
It will be proper for the child to accustom himself
.to compose in his own native tongue as soon as

197
possible in order to reduce to practice the rules
which bis grammar has taught him.
But I would more particularly inculcate the ne
cessity of acquiring a habit of reading and repeat
ing aloud, in order to give strength to, and to
form the organs of enunciationj-and also to give
the boy a power of expressing himself readily and
boldly on all occasions. As, without the courage
to display the knowledge which he really possesses,
a man might almost as well not have it (indeed it
is as though he had it not, for any benefit which
it imparts to his fellow men ; it is, like the miser's
guinea, locked up in a chest, of no use either to
the owner or to the community), I should be
very desirous that my chiTcl might be early taught
sufficient hardihood of mind always to dare to do
his best on every occasion, and to be not more
easily deterred from doing that which is right,
than the generality of children are from perpetrat
ing that which is wrong.
The study of language is peculiarly adapted to
render the faculty of. associating similar simple
ideas, or of combining dissimilar images, more
rapid and facile. By attributing definite ideas to
arbitrary signs, and by forming abstract when de
finite notions cannot be obtained, the power of as-
03

108
sociation and of imagination, like all other powers
of the mind, must, by use, be greatly strengthen
ed. Add to which, by increasing the power of
the associative faculty, the study of language ex
alts the talents of reasoning, increases the bril
liancy of wit, and fans all the brightest fires of the
imagination into a greater intensity of flame ;
whence the mental powers are enabled to work
with greater rapidity and promptitude of dispatch
upon any subject which might be offered to their
consideration. But the dead languages, the Greek and the
Latin, should be more especially studied, as con
ducive to the great end now in question, not only
because they contain the highest flights of human
genius, in almost every department of knowledge
(excepting the'science of mind, metaphysical pur
suits), but also because they have a greater accu
racy, a more philosophical precision, than any liv
ing, floating, continually shifting language can
possess. By paying particular attention to these
two inestimable languages, the mind is strength
ened and rendered clear in all her views ; it is al
most like learning an abstract science. Little, in
deed, are the feelings of those soi-disant philoso
phers to be envied, who affect to decry the investi
gation of these exhaustless mines of intelligence
and of delight.

199
" Fain would I sing (much yet unsung remains)
Whf.t sweet delirium o'er his bosom stole,
When the great shepherd of the Mantuan plains
His sweet majestic melody 'gan roll :
Fain would I sing what transport storm'd his soul,
How the red current throbb'd his veins along,
When, like Pelides, bold beyond control,
Without art graceful, without effort strong,
Homer rais'd high to Heaven the loud, th' impetuous song."
It would be productive, also, of inestimable be
nefit and bliss to study the French, the Italian,
Spanish, German, and Asiatic tongues ; a task of
no very difficult accomplishment in much less
time than is consumed in our schools in poring
over only the two dead languages.
The debt immense of endless gratitude which
we owe to science, will easily be acknowledged,
when we compare the situation of the polished
European with the miserable condition of the New
Hollander, and reflect, that all the comforts and
all the conveniences of life which render the inha
bitant of Europe so much superior in every physi
cal and every moral blessing to the native of New
Holland, all rest upon the basis of science.
" Many a long, lingering year, in lonely isle,
Stunn'd with th' eternal turbulence of waves,
Lo, with dim eyes that never learn'd to smile,
And trembling hands, the famish'd native craves
0 4

200
Of Heaven his wretched fare'! -Shiv'ring in caves,
Or scorch'd on rocks, he pines from day to day;
But Science gives the word ; and straight he brave*
The surge and tempest, lighted by her ray,
And to a happier land wafts merrily away !~
'" And e'en where Nature loads the teeming plain
With the full pomp of vegetable store,
Her bounty unimprov'd is deadly bane :
Dark woods and rankling wilds from shore to shore
Stretch their enormous gloom; which to explore
E'en Fancy trembles in her sprightliest mood.
For there each eye-ball gleams with lust of gore,
Nestles each murderous, and each monstrous brood,
Plague lurks in every shade, and steams from every flood,
" It was from Science that man learn'd to tame
' The soil by plenty to intemperance fed ;
And from the echoing axe and thundering flame,
Poison and plague and yelling rage are fled.
The waters, bursting from their slimy bed,
Bring health and melody to every vale ;
And from the breezy main, and mountain's head,
Ceres and Flora, to the sunny dale,
To fan their glowiiig charms, invite the fluttering gale.
" What dire necessities, on every hand,
Our art, our strength, cur fortitude require !
Of foes intestine, what a numerous band,
Against this little throb of life conspire !
Yet Science can elude their fatal ire
Awhile, and turn aside Death's levell'd dart,
Sooth the sharp pang, allay the fever's fire,
And brace the nerves once more, and cheer the heart,
And yet a few soft nights and balmy days impart."

201
Neither is science less effectual in composing
and allaying all those passions of furious and of
loathsome mien, which render the mind one dark
chaotic mass of confusion worse confounded, and
in directing our atttention to objects more worthy
of a being destined for immortality.
" Fervet avaritia miseroque cupidine pectus ?
Sunt verba, et voces, quibus hunc lenire dolor-em
Possis, et magnam morbi deponere partem.
Laudis amore tumes ? sunt certa piacula, -quae te
Ter purie lecto poterunt recreare libello.
Invidus, iracundus, iners, vinosus, amator,
Nemo adeo ferus est, ut non mitescere possit,
Si modo culturae patientem commodet aurem.
" Nor less to regulate man's moral frame,
Science exerts her all-composing sway.
Flutters thy breast with fedr, or pants for fame,
Or pines to indolence and spleen a prey,
Or avarice, a fiend more fierce than they ?
Flee to the shade of Academus' grove ;
Where cares molest not, discord melts away
In harmony, .and the pure passions prove
How sweet the words of truth breath'd from the lip's of love.
" What cannot art and industry perform,
When Science plans the progress of their toil ?
They smile at penury, disease and storm ;
And oceans from their mighty mounds recoil.
When tyrants scourge, or demagogues embroil
A land, or when the rabble's headlong rage,
Order transforms to anarchy and spoil j
Deep vers'd in man the philosophic sage
Prepares, with lenient hand> their phrenzy to assuags."

202
Science also regulates and restrains the wild
aberrations of fancy, and directs her flight to ob
jects worthy the aim of an immortal being.
" Tho' soft and smooth are fancy's flowery ways,
Yet even there, if left without a guide,
The young adventurer unsafely plays.
Eyes dazzled long by fiction's gaudy rays,
In modest truth no light nor beauty find ;
And who, my child, would trust the meteor-blaze
That soon must fail and leave the wanderer blind,
More dark and helpless far than if it ne'er had shin'd.
" Fancy enervates, while it sooths the heart,
And while it dazzles, wounds the mental sight ;
To joy each heightening charm it can impart,
But wraps the hour of woe in tenfold night ;
And often, where no real ills affright,
Its visionary fiends, an endless train,
Assail with equal or superior might,
And thro' the throbbing heart, and dizzy brain,
And shivering nerves, shoot stings of more than mortal pain.
" And yet, alas ! the real ills of life
Claim the full vigour of a mind prepar'd,
Prepar'd for patient and laborious strife,
Its guide experience, and truth its guard.
We fare on earth as other men have far'd:
Were they successful ? Let not us despair.
Was disappointment oft their sole reward?
Yet shall their tale instruct, if it declare
How they have borne the load ourselves are doom'd to hear-
" And see with modest, yet majestic grace,
To curb imagination's lawless rage,
And from within the cherish'd heart to brace,
Philosophy appears! the gloomy race,

203
By indolence and moping fancy bred,
Fear, discontent, solicitude, give place,
And hope and courage brighten in their stead,
While on the kindling soul the beams of science spread."
Science, indeed, by directing the most intense
energies of thought, always, towards the acquisi
tion of truth and certainty, strengthens, enlarges,
and tempers every faculty of the human mind.
" Enraptur'd by the strain, then let the youth
Proceed the path of science to explore:
For then, expanding to the beams of truth,
New energies, and charms unknown before,
His mind shall know, and fancy shall no more
Wanton on fickle pinion thr6ugh the skies ;
But fix'd in aim, and conscious of her power,
Aloft, from cause to cause, exult to rise,
Creation's blended stores arranging as she flies.
" Neither let novelty alone inspire,
Their laws and nice dependencies to scan ;
But let him, mindful of what men require,
And of the services man owes to man,
Excogitate new wants on nature's plan,
The cold, desponding breast of sloth to warm,
The flame of industry and genius fan,
And emulation's noble rage alarm,
And the long hours of toil and solitude to charm."
Pure and mixed mathematics should also be
studied early in life, because they very much
strengthen the mind, by imparting a habit of close
and of undivided attention ; and by directing it

204
altogether to the search of truth, they lift it up
above the numberless meannesses and vices into
which weak and uninformed intellects generally
fall. In mathematical inquiries we proceed from
simple, determinate^ fixed principles,-to a determi
nate and immutable end; the links of the chains
of reasoning by which we arrive at our conclusion,
are short and easy, and discoverable by the steady
operation even of mediocral powers.
But although, from the nature of the subject,
persons of comparatively slow understandings are
capable of drawing a just conclusion in mathema
tical investigations, yet one, who possesses an ar
dent and a fiery imagination, will be enabled, by
more rapidly associating images, (as was particu
larly exemplified in Newton) to call up all the in-
termediate links, and leap directly to a conclusion,
at which a less vigorous understanding must arrive
by a laborious and painful comprehension of each
separate link in the catenation of reasoning.
Next follows, as resting on the basis of mathe
matics, the study of natural philosophy, which dis
covers the laws, and explains the phenomena of the
sensible motions of the insensible assemblages of
inanimate matter. By an attention to this science,
the mind will be so strengthened and chastened
by a long and steady pursuit of clear and unso-

205
phisticated truth, that it may then" betake itself
with advantage to any species of intellectual em
ployment, within the grasp of human ability ; but
without the study of this science, which is, in fact,
the mother of all other sciences, and without
whose fostering aid the rest can only be vamped
up for use, but cannot grow to any maturity of
size or strength, I much doubt if we can expect
any great improvement, either in our learned pro
fessions, or in the other callings to which men are
led by choice, or driven by necessity.
Metaphysics, or the philosophy of the human
mind, more perhaps than any other pursuit, teaches
us the great end for which we were created, and
directs us how to improve, and how to employ our
faculties, so as to acquire the greatest quantity of
happiness for ourselves, the most extensive benefit
to society, and to redound most to the glory of
God, by obeying and executing his will.
In physical researches the mind has a greater
portion of labour to endure, than in mere mathe
matical investigation ; for she fnust, in addition to
those immutable and determinate causes, whose
operations are steady and invariable, at once call
.up all those accessary, ^concomitant, or adventi
tious circumstances, by which our general conclu
sion may be in the least influenced. Hence arise

206
those numberless fallacies and mistakes which de
pend upon the application of mathematical rea
soning, whether synthetical or analytical to sub
jects, which cannot admit such a mode of ratio
cination. In mathematical science we arrive at a
conclusion by the Operation of the very first prin
ciples of our reason. These principles being the
same in all minds, the same conclusion must in
this science, while the established laws of nature
remain the same, be for ever drawn from the same
principles. But in physics we can only arrive at our conclu
sion from analogy ; for in this imperfect state of
existence, the primitive, simple, immutable causes,
which operate in producing the phenomena of
nature, are hidden from our eyes. Hence, from
the natural imperfection of analogy, because no
two causes in the physical world can ever be ex
actly similar, our reasoning in physics must neces
sarily be liable to fallacy.
Perhaps one of the greatest errors into which
mankind have fallen, is the application of the mere
mathematical method of reasoning to physics ;
from which must inevitably result a partial conclu
sion from partial premises : as if a man should
reason thus :— -animals have ears—but a fish is an
animal, therefore fishes hear: he would be mi-

207
serably mistaken in his mode of argumentation,
because he totally disregards the difference of the
mediums in which land animals and fishes live,
their different structures, and the different pur
poses which they were intended to serve in the
oeconomy of nature. This particular mode of
partial reasoning appears to be generally adopted
by men of slow minds, which have seldom or ever
been found guilty of any flights of fancy, of any
flashes of imagination.
Nor are those whose imagination is lively, strong,
and ardent, less liable to err in their reasonings,
though from a different cause. Such men, when
any subject is started, immediately and rapidly call
up to their mind all the various causes or circum
stances which can have any influence upon the
conclusion to be drawn from the premises. If,
however, their minds have not been properly cul
tivated, if their reasoning faculty has not been ren
dered sufficiently energetic by exercise, these men,
of all others, are most prone to waver in uncer
tainty; or sometimes, by their imaginations im
puting more weight to trifling or accessary causes,
than to those of greater moment, they draw erro
neous conclusions from principles not properly ap
preciated. In order to remove or prevent the evil effects

10S
arising from a barren imagination, a variety of lan»
guages should be studied, and the works of nature
surveyed and investigated. The evils arising from
an ardent and a powerful imagination not properly
regulated, are, first, an inaptitude or inability of
properly appreciating the various causes and cir
cumstances which can influence our conclusions
in the investigation of physical truth ; and, se
condly, the want of facility in drawing conclusions
from fixed and determinate principles.
To be able to call up at once all those causes
and circumstances which influence physical truths;'
to appreciate and allot to each its proper place,
weight, and effect; and to draw from those pre
mises, when so summoned up, weighed, and de
termined, a natural conclusion, appears to be, if it
can ever be obtained, the last-result of human ex
cellence. The only means of acquiring a power of pro
perly appreciating all those circumstances which
influence our judgment in physical reasoning, is
the investigation of the mind, or the study of me
taphysics. In our present imperfect state of exist
ence, the information which we receive of the phy
sical world, is communicated through the fallaci
ous medium of the senses'; and, consequently, in
order to understand the exact measure of accuracy

209
as to the evidence which the senses, can give, it is
necessary that we obtain a correct knowledge of
their limits and power. This knowledge is to be
acquired from an investigation of the more general
principles of the soul ; and, indeed, it is in the
power of every one to derive such information, by
turning his attention inward to the Contemplation
of his own mind.
The best books on this subject with which I am
acquainted, are Locke's Essay on the Human Un
derstanding, Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy
of the Human Mind, Condillac's Essai sur VOri-
gine des Connoissances Humaines, and his Traite des
Sensations. From an attentive perusal of these few books,
the pupil might learn to expand all the powers of
his mind, and to direct them all to his own happi
ness, and to the service of his fellow*creatures ;
might learn the true relation in which he stands
with regard to his fellow- men and his God. In
deed, this delightful study comprehends the prin»
ciples of every other intellectual pursuit, and may
be considered as the beginning, middle, and end
of all human knowledge.
I do. not recommend Helvetius' book, although
it contains many most profound observations on
P

210
the powers of the human mind, because its scep
tical tendency, and the indiscriminate, wilfully
perverse ridicule, which it continually throws out
against all religion, and all believers, may do much
injury to the young mind, that has not had an op
portunity of becoming sufficiently acquainted with
the nature (of evidence, and is not sufficiently
strong in the christian faith.
Moral philosophy should be taught, that the
student may learn of what importance it is to com
mand, and not to obey those passions and appetites
which prompt him continually to sacrifice future
good for present enjoyment, to offer up virtue, ho
nour, integrity, mercy, charity, and all the best
feelings of the soul on the shrine of mere sensual
and momentary gratification.
We should bear in mind, that the faculty of rea
soning is employed on three different kinds of ob
jects, mathematical, physical, and moral ; the two
fiust have already passed under our view ; the third
object of inquiry, the moral world, is actuated by
the human mind, from the innumerable variations
of which, in the different states of society, of pre
judice, of ignorance, and of cultivation, our con
clusions must stand upon very slippery and uncer
tain ground. To any one who casts his view broad
and expanded over the different states of human

211
society, it will be manifest, that the extent of our
knowledge is much farther removed from ultimate
simplicity in the moral than in the physical world.
Whence it appears, that the exercise of the imagi
nation is essentially necessary to the investigation
both of physical and of moral truth ; for, without
the power of calling up to the mind all those vari
ous circumstances which can influence our results,
we can never arrive at a just conclusion in those
inquiries, where the conclusion is always influenced
by sueh circumstances.
Hence we perceive, that in reasoning upon mo
rals, he who is only acquainted with his own mind,
is but half informed, but half prepared for the com
bat. Could a man of mild, humane, and benevo
lent disposition, merely from the knowledge of his
own mind, infer the existence of a Caligula or a
Nero ? Or could a wretch, without the least drop
of the milk of human kindness, conclude, from his
own experience only, that virtue ever existed in a
human shape? In the investigation of morals, there
fore, in addition to the study of metaphysics, we
must investigate and Collect together a mass of
facts, from without, on which to reason ; we must
be acquainted with the various prejudices, caprices,
and perversions of the human intellect, and acquire
an accurate knowledge of the various causes ope-
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212
rating in the moral world, in order to appreciate
their value at its true standard.
When we have accurately weighed and fixed
the degree of evidence which the senses afford, and
the closeness of analogy in our physical inquiries;
when we have properly appreciated the operations
of mind which actuate the moral world, we then
have fixed, determinate principles, as in mathema
tics, from which to draw steady, certain conclu
sions : but, in mathematics, these conclusions are
few and simple ; whereas, in morals, they are com
plicated and numerous. The power of drawing
conclusions is ,the same in both ; but in morals
(and in physics also, though in a less degree than
in morals, and in a greater degree than in mathe
matics, between which two they may be considered
as the mean proportion) it coiriprehends a much
greater variety of objects, and consequently re
quires a more abundant portion of knowledge and
of mind to be embarked in their service.
The improvement of the faculty of drawing con
clusions is the most sure method of attaining cer
tainty in the complicated investigations of morals ;
and this faculty is strengthened and improved
mpst, I apprehend, by an accurate and extensive
acquaintance with mathematics and natural philo-

213
sophy. Indeed, the cultivation of these two last
mentioned sciences includes the improvement of
that principle, which is to direct and regulate our
research in every department of human inquiry.
Philosophical criticism should be taught on those
principles which are deduced from an investigation
of the faculties of the human mind, which alone
can fix criticism on any steady and permanent
basis, which alone can teach us how to appreciate
writings properly, by the effect which they produce
on the reader, and to rank those as the highest in
the scale of praise, which, by producing pleasurable
excitement, improve the mind and amend the heart.
OSconomics, or the study of political oeconomy,
should be taught, on account of the incalculable
advantages which it imparts to every condition and
every rank in life. It embraces the knowledge
of the internal resources of a country in all its
branches, and of the best means of augmenting the
moral and the physical strength of a nation, by
putting in motion the greatest possible quantity of
productive industry with a given mass of popula
tion, soil, and climate. It also includes an, ac
quaintance with the international relations of the
different kingdoms of the globe. It comprehends,
within its mighty range of information, every cir
cumstance worth knowing with regard to the poli-
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214
tical regulation of rrian, from the great balancing
system, the system of poising and adjusting the.
power of the different empires of the world, down
to the most slight and trifling occupation of. do*
mestic oeconomy in the cottage of the villager.
In order to bring a mind properly prepared and
trained for the study of ceconomics, it appears par
ticularly necessary, that a man should have recourse
to a previous acquaintance with the modes of rea
soning in mathematics, in physics, and in morals ;
that he should have enlarged his mind, and have
elevated his heart, by an early and attentive obser
vation of the works of nature, and have rendered
his understanding luminous and brilliant, by an ac
curate and an extensive investigation of language.
Some of the best books on this most interesting
and important pf all the subjects of human inquiry
(excepting religion) with which I am acquainted,.
are Turgot's observations, in the French Encyclo
pedic, under the titles — Foire, and Fondation: Sir,
James Stewart's. Political Oeconomy,, Hume's Poli
tical Essays, Adam Smith's immortal work, Mal-
thus's no less valuable Essay on Population, Broug
ham's admirable book on Colonial Policy, King on
Bank Restriction, Thornton on Paper Credit, and
many others, which I have. now neither leisure nor
inclination to enumerate.

215
The study of the law of England is peculiarly-
calculated to sharpen and invigorate all the powers
of the human understanding ; to teach a correct
knowledge of the exact relations which individuals,
in different ranks of the community, and different
individuals in the same orders of society, bear to
each other ; and, consequently, to manifest the in
dispensable necessity of preserving regular grada
tions of men, as the great cement which holds all
the building of civilized institutions together ; arid
to cherish in the heart a warm, an ardent, an ever
lasting affection and attachment to the venerable
fabric of our blessed constitution, which towers
in the mightiness of its majestic simplicity and
strength, like some bold veteran gray in arms, arid
marked with many a seamy scar, still dauntless,
willing, and able to withstand ihe assault of war,
and to repel the invader's shock.
Neither is it the least advantage arising from the
study of the law, that the very minute accuracy
(not allowing even the variation or misplacing of a
single letter throughout all the voluminous rolls of
lengthened and intricate pleadings), so rigidly and
so justly required in all the branches of legal pro
ceedings, teaches and forms the mind to a habit of
the strictest attention, of the most undeviating
correctness, and of the most patient research, all
which circumstances are of the most essential ser-
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216
vice in promoting a successful investigation into
every other department of human knowledge.
It is a common complaint, that the law is very
difficult Of comprehension, and a very dry, disgust
ing study. That a science so vast and compre
hensive as the legal code of a nation, which extends
its sway over half the habitable globe, must present
difficulties to the student on his first approach,
cannot but be expected. The student should how
ever remember, that the commencement of every
study is beset with difficulties ; that he was obliged
to endure long labour and toil, before he could ac
quire even the first rudiments of a language, or the .
simplest elements of pure science. Let him not,
therefore, impute blame to the law, for participating
in that which is common to every other valuable
human pursuit ; but direct the same patient in
dustry, and the same individual attention, to the
study of the law, which enabled him to acquire a
proficiency in the Greek language, or in mathe
matics, and he will soon find no reason to com
plain of the inexplicable intricacy, or the insuper
able difficulties attendant upon our system of ju
risprudence. How that study, which opens to us the princi
ples on which the safety of our property, our li
berty, all that renders life a blessing, nay, life itself '

217'
depends; can be dry and disgusting, I am yet to
learn. The truth is, that young 'gentlemen betake them
selves to the study of the law at a time when they
fancy that their educatiori is finished (although the
education of a sensible mind never ends but with
life), and being but recently let loose from the re-;
straint of a college or a school, are very unwilling
to submit to endure that portion of labour and in
dustry which is the only price for which knowledge
can be purchased ; and, affecting1 to forget how
much toil the mere acquisition of their grammar
rules cost them, presume to accuse the law of I
know not what intricacy, and inexplicable incon
sistencies, merely because it is not an anomaly, be
cause it does not depart from those fixed and esta
blished principles on which the intellectual world
has ever rested, and will not yield up its boundless
store of treasures to the faint solicitations, the weak
and the contemptible efforts of indolent indiffer
ence. The stores of geography, history, biography, arid
the relations of voyagers and travellers, should be
laid open to the young mind, for the purpose of
enabling the student to become accurately ac
quainted with the relative situa'tioris of the different

si a
kingdoms of the earth, and with facts and examples
on which to reason correctly upon the actions of
men. History, by recording the exploits of the
human race, presents us with the materials on
whieh we may reason, in order to discover the
causes that have retarded or accelerated the pro
gressive march of the human intellect towards a
higher degree of power, of virtue, and of happiness.
Biography, when properly written, unfolds to us
the means by which particular men have invigo
rated and expanded all their mental powers, and
mounted into celebrity by the unremitted and un
wearied exertions of the giant capacities of genius.
The relations of voyagers and travellers open to
our minds a new field of speculation and of im
provement, by delineating the manners and the
customs of different people and nations, and by
pointing put, if possible, the causes of such cus
toms and manners.
Without the accumulation of faots, there can be
no basis on which to build the superstructure of
reason ; and it is of the most material importance
that the- human mind should, early in life,, acquire
correct notions of the actual state of men in the!
different periods of society, and also in different
countries at the same period of time, that it may .
be able to appreciate the wonderful blessings of

210
civilization, and to learn the sacred, the indispen
sable duty of obedience to properly ordained laws,.
and wisely regulated institutions.
It were much to be wished, that history could
be somewhat diverted from her present course into
her proper channel, namely, the consideration of
the manners and condition- of the great mass of
the people at different periods of time ; marking
out the causes which have retarded or accelerated
the progressive march of the human intellect to
wards a higher degree of perfection; arid dwelling
more slightly upon the atrocities of those who
" wade through slaughter to a throne, and shut
the gates of mercy on mankind," who " cry havoc
and let slip the dogs of war," whose steps are
traced in the blood of myriads of their fellow crea
tures, and whose progress is marked only by the
desolation of the fairest provinces of the earth.
These horrible transactions, which are, a libel on
the understanding and the virtue of mankind,
should be passed over rapidly, and with expres
sions of abhorrence; while our chief attention-
should be directed by the historian to those means
by which the knowledge, the happiness, and the
virtues of mankind, have been augmented and
advanced. But is this the line of conduct which historians

220'
pursue ? No. They are continually endeavouring1
to instil into our minds an admiration and envy of
the honour and the glory of warlike nations; that
is, in other words, the butchery and murder of
mighty empires. Read the histories of Greece, of
Rome, of France, of England, and you will read
little else but one continued series of bloodshed
and of murder. And these are celebrated by their
historians as splendid, brilliant, powerful nations ;
but where does the phrase happy nation occur in
the records of these sages pf literature ? Happiness
dwelleth only in the tents of peace and of virtue :
she is frightened from those spots where the sounds
ing of the clarion to battle, and the trampling of
armed hoofs' is heard, where the blood-red banner
of military desolation is seen to float upon the
wings of the wind.
Where are the historians who have been influ
enced by this 'hallowed and sacred truth? Have
not all been > chiefly intent on describing battles,
and victories, 'and armies, and triumphs; father
seeking to affix the names of great and glorious,
than of/as/Iand good, to kirigdoiris and to empires?
Have they not ; bequeathed to' posterity a mass of
gorgeous misery, and industriously varnished over
the evils and the horrors of sanguinary and tumul
tuous revolutions ? Have they not hidden the de-
. T\\J. . ,' • - • - • ', T
. : :•'¦ Niiv; ..;: ,J0'-* ¦ > -,i::i ' : -"• • «.

221
formity of vice from our eyes, by throwing over it
the splendid veil of genius ?
" And now, at length, to Edwin's ardent gaze
The muse of History unrols her page.
But few, alas! the scenes her art displays,
To charm his fancy, or his heart engage.
Here chiefs their thirst of power in'bl'ood assuage,
And straight their flames with tenfold fury burn :
Here smiling virtue prompts the patriot's rage,
But lo, ere long, is left alone to mourn,
And languish in the dust, and clasp th' abandon'd urn.
" Ambition's slippery verge shall mortals tread,
Where Ruin's gulph unfathom'd yawns beneath?
Shall life, shall liberty be lost (he said)
For the vain toys that Pomp and Power bequeath?
The car of Victory, the plume, the wreathe,
Defend not from the bolt of fate the brave :
The clarion of Renown no note can breathe,
T' alarm the long night of the lonely grave,
Or check the headlong haste of Tims' s o'erwhelming wav«.
** Ah, what avails it to have trae'dthe springs
Which whirl of empire the stupendous wheel!
Ah, what have I to do with conqu'ring kings,
Hands drench'd in blood, and breasts begirt with steel !
To those whom Nature taught to think and feel,
Heroes, alas! are things of small concern.
Could History man's secret heart reveal,
And what imports a heaven-born mind to learn,
Her transcripts to explore what bosom would not yearn !

222
« This praise, O Cheronean sage, Is thine!
(Why should this praise to thee alone belong ?)
AU else from Nature's moral path decline,
Lur'd by the toys that captivate the throng ;
To herd in cabinets and camps, among
Spoil, carnage, and the cruel pomp of pride;
Or chaunt of heraldry the drowsy song,
How tyrant blood o'er many a region wide,
Rolls to a thousand thrones its execrable tide."
How comes it to pass, that the historian con
fines himself chiefly to the relation of instances of
splendid villainy, and forgets to narrate examples
of virtue, of mercy, of benevolence, of the means
by which a kingdom or a province was made to
flourish in prosperity and in peace, and its inhabi
tants to dwell in the bosom of their families, rejoic
ing each man in the wife of his youth, and in the
children of his loye ?
When Pericles, the Athenian, lay on his death
bed, with his eyes closed, his friends and relations,
who stood round his couch, thinking that he had
actually breathed his last, began to bewail their
loss, and to enumerate his virtues and his excellen
cies, his many splendid victories, his powers of elo
quence, his wit, and a thousand other things, which
their fondness for his memory recalled to their re
collection. Pericles, who had been listening to all
that they said, answered — " But, my friends, you

223
forget the greatest of all my commendations, iri
comparison of which my triumphs, and battles,
and eloquence, and wit, and power, are as nothing,
remember, that no citizen of Athens has ever been
oNiged to wear mourning on my account."
How do all the military and bloody achieve
ments of that hero of France, the patriotic Henry
the fourth, fade away into annihilation, when we
compare it with the everlasting glory of his bene
volence, which prompted him to utter this memo
rable speech — " I hope to live to see the day when
every peasant in my kingdom shall be able to put
a fowl into his pot for his daily dinner."
" What charms th' historic muse adorn, from spoils,
And blood, and tyrants, when she wings her flight,
To hail the patriot prince, whose pious toils,
Sacred to Science, Liberty, and Right,
And Peace', through every age divinely bright,
Shall shine the boast and wonder of mankind !
Sees yonder sun, from his meridian height,
A lovelier scene, than virtue thus enshrin'd
In power, and man with man for mutual aid combin'd."
The necessity and the advantage of thinking in
words, should be early inculcated on the mind of
the pupil. I am well aware of the great difficulty
of acquiring this excellent habit, on account of
the impatience which the mind feels in being con
tinually arrested in the rapidity of her flight, in

224
being stopped in the celerity of her edurse, iri
order to accommodate the comparatively slow
march of language. It is much more delightful
for the mind to dart a lightening glance upon the
great whole of a subject, to sketch the bold outline
of a picture, and then to bound forward to the
contemplation of other objects, than to pause, and
rest upon any given materials of thought, till each
separate part is embodied into words and syllables,
till all the under parts are finished, till even the
last stroke of the pencil, has nicely adjusted the
light and shade, and every. little fold of thedrapery.
"t >s
But unless we continually question our own
minds, and demand of them an accurate and suc
cinct account of what stores they possess, unless
we constantly accustom ourselves to clothe our
thoughts as they arise in words, we shall seldom
be able to obtain a correct knowledge of the sub
jects offered to our contemplation, and shall never
be enabled to explain- to others that which we cdn-
not explain to ourselves. And it should never,
for a single moment of our lives, be forgotten, that
all our power of doing good and conferring hap
piness, both on ourselves and others, is exactly
proportioned to the quantity of influence which>
we possess over the opinion of others, and that,
that influence has for its basis the faculty of com
municating information in a pleasing, manner.

225
The habit of composing in several languages,
but particularly in the pupil's own vernacular
tongue, should be early and seriously enforced.
The advantages which composition gives of impart
ing an accurate knowledge of the language which
the writer uses, of teaching the young mind the
necessity of arranging and balancing the mass of
ideas floating in the brain, and of enabling the
composer to acquire a eopid verborum, a command
of language, are too obvious to be insisted upon at
length. But I would not turn the attention pf my child
too much to the subjects of mythology, as is ge
nerally done in the schools where the themes are
mostly of that class; because such absurd tales
tend very little to amend the heart and exalt the
mind. What man in his senses is benefited by, or
cares a single pinch of snuff about Medea and her
Dragons, or about Hercules and the shirt, which
annoyed him by sticking too closely to his skin ;
and a thousand more such accounts, all which can
call forth no one sentiment that gives the mind a
taste for the charms of truth and nature, that can
refine or ennoble humanity ?
Would it not be more advisable to require the
student to meditate and to write upon the sources
of human power? These sources may be thus
Q

226
classed, first, Industry; 2dly, (Economy, or self-
negation ; 3dly, Virtue ; 4thly, Vice.
The pupil should be early taught that industry
is the foundation of all power, both national and
individual. That the weight of mighty empires
rests entirely upon the shoulders of productive
labour. But, in order to bring it more home to;
his own business and bosom, let it be earnestly
inculcated on his mind, that no enjoyment or ad
vantage on earth can be obtained without long
continued, and steadily directed previous exertion.
This truth is the more necessary to be enforced,
because, unfortunately for the interests of huma
nity, it is a too generally received opinion, that
it is only incumbent on comparatively slow and
weak minds, to labour and to tpi), and that men of
quick and of brilliant talents can perform what- ,
soever they list by mere fits and starts of exertion,
without having recourse to patient industry. But
it is now full time, that such a dangerous mistake
should be swept away, and obliterated from the..
tablets of recorded error, and that men should be
taught to know, that without undivided and' vi-.
gorous application, nothing is great, nothing is
strong; that men of genius have no other- way of
acquiring knowledge than by that of attention and
observation, and that without labour and diligence.

227
without directing all 'the efforts and all the exer
tions of intellect to one great point, the brightest
abilities spend their fires to no purpose, and the
most exalted understandings shine only as mo
mentary meteors, whose feeble and divergescent
rays shed a faint and a fleeting gleam, and are
then for ever shrouded in the thickest night, and
involved in the most impenetrable darkness. ' >¦
Many an African river rolls/ its impetuous
streams, and tumbles its loud-resounding torrents,
and deluges many a widely extended plain, but,
soon exhausted by its wild and irregular efforts, is
lost in the burning sands, or steals a silent, small,.
and creeping rivulet into some neighbouring lake;
whilst the Nile holds on its steady course, deep,
majestic, broad, and strong, increasing in power,
as it advances on its way, till having enriched itself
with a thousand tributary streams, it disembogues
its mighty waters into the great body of the ocean.
Man is so constituted, that he is never wretched
but when idle and unemployed. I speak not npw
of vicious actions, which are always accompanied
with misery, but only of innocent and laudable ex
ertion, as contra-distinguished to indolence and
sloth. Of all the miseries on earth, none is scf
intolerable as a state of mental and bodily idleness,
and the pangs endured are exactly proportioned
Q2

*¦ ' 328
to the extent' of the power of the idle person's
mind. " Alltnen are inclined to indolence, but more
particularly those of exalted genius, and yet with
them indolence and unhappiness are more parti
cularly combined and blended together ; the un
bidden, splendours of imagination may, indeed, at
times irradiate the gloom which inactivity pro
duces; but such visions, though bright, are tran
sient, and serve to cast the realities of life into
deeper shade. In bestowing great talents, nature
seems to have imposed on the possessor the neces
sity of exertion if he would escape wretchedness:
better for him than sloth, toils the most painful,
or adventures the most hazardous. Happier for
him than idleness were the condition of the pea
sant, earning with incessant labour his scanty food;
or the lot of the sailor, though hanging on the
yard-arm, and wrestling with the hurricane."
Let, therefore, the pupil be taught, that to men
of exalted talents, idleness barbs the dart of misery,
only to drive it more deeply into the inmost re
cesses of their souls ; that indolence invites them
to the eventual and prospective enjoyments of vice,
that they may escape the immediate torments of
their own sensations. Life, in its best moments,
affords but few realities which are not disgusting

220
to men of delicate sensibility, and of quick per
ception ; but those realities press, with accumu
lated weight, upon the mind that is unemployed,
and force it to the very confines of delirious ago
ny. By indolence all our talents are impaired ; all
their power of imparting active good to the human
race is annihilated, all our felicity is destroyed,
and our souls wrapped in the dunnest pall of mi
sery. Regular and continued application alone can
direct the stream of ability into its proper channel,
and send forth the rivulets of improvement and of
happiness, to adorn and to fertilize the regions of
mortality. Upon the steady and unremitted ap
plication of our minds to those studies, which call
forth all the higher intellectual faculties into full
exertion, depend 'our hopes and expectations of
virtue, of happiness, and of honourable fame. A
man so endowed and so regulated, may with con
fidence pursue his course in almost any of all the
various and diversified walks of life, which accident
or choice may lay open to his view; and if he em
ploys industriously those talents which he has cul
tivated,, he may look forward with full assurance to
have his endeavours crowned with that happiness
and success, -which always await the steady exer
tions of human ability.
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230
May my child for ever bear in mind that what
is precipitately and rashly received, is generally
as quickly discarded. Let him reflect, that in the
prosecution of any attempt, cool and deliberate
perseverance is necessary to command success,
which will never be won by the wild aberrations of
eccentric and capricious eagerness, or the momen
tary flashes of instantaneous ardour, whose rapid
and unstable energies are immediately followed hy
pitiful listlessness and contemptible imbecility.
Let him remember, that the eruptions of Mount
iEtna are wild, irregular, and of short duration,
while the splendour of the blessed sun is constant,
bold, and lasting ; let him never forget, that the
flame which blazed upon the altar of the heathens
was ardent, fierce, and momentary ; but that the
fire which burned in the Holy of Holies at the
Temple of Jerusalem, was steady, temperate, and
eternal.

" Perseverance, dear my lord,

Keeps honour bright : to have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way,
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast : keep then the path ;
For emulation hath a thousand sons,
-That one by one pursue ; if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,

231
Like to an enter' d tide they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost :
Or, like a gallant horse, fallen in the first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on."
The pupil should be early taught that oeconomy
is a sacred duty, that it is the fruitful source of in
dividual and of national power. CEconomy, by
augmenting the fund destined to maintain produc
tive labourers, goes directly to increase the Value
of the annual produce of a country by putting io
motion an additional quantity of industry.
But to descend to the level of domestic life, the
pupil should be taught that extravagance is the
cause of incalculable mischief throughout the
whole career of existence, that it plunges into con
tinual debt those of moderate and circumscribed
incomes, and consequently leads them into every
species of meanness, dishonesty, fraud, injustice,
and misery; that to those of ample and abundant
revenues it brings much inquietude and vexation,
and induces them to submit sometimes to certain
conditions being imposed on their independence
of sentiment (in order to repair their shattered
patrimony) which they cannot always reflect upon
with satisfaction.
Every child should have it early instilled into
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232
its mind that justice is the, foundation of all virtue,
and that ceconomy is the basis of justice. For
unless a man lives within his income, let that in
come be as large or as small as it may, he is guilty
of the most manifest injustice in invading the pro
perty of ethers, "and in pursuing an iniquitous spe
cies of plunder, which, if it became general, would
at once rend asunder all the links of civilized so
ciety, and destroy the very existence of all orga
nized institutions.
iilJ ¦
All extravagance proceeds from the most con
temptible cowardice, the most abject weakness of
mind, which has not sufficient courage openly to
avow its real situation in life, but endeavours to
impose on others by the flimsy vanity of assuming
an imaginary consequence which does not belong
to it, and which is in itself nothing. Whence are
incurred expences that speedily conduct the fool
ish, infatuated idiot, who had not sense and ho
nesty enough to refrain from them, to want, to in
famy, to a dungeon, and to an ignominious death?
I am the more earnest upon this subject, because
ceconomy is considered by many people as an in
dication of a mean and a dependent spirit ; but let
me ask, which evinces the most abject and servile
mind, he who by daring to live within his income,
defrauds no man of his due, and assists his afflicted.
and distressed fellow-creatures, or he who by dis-

283
'sipating his patrimony, cheats and swindles his cre
ditors out of their property, and becomes a hanger-
on, a led-captain, a toad-eater, a parasite, a beg
garly spunge upon other people for a dinner, for a
coat, for his means of existence, a, mere drone upon
society, a burthen upon the earth, a nuisance to
the community ?
I have personally known many men who, in con
sequence of eariy habits of extravagance, were ha
rassed with debt and pecuniary difficulties all their
lives, although their incomes were fully sufficient,
with a very moderate share of prudence and of
honesty, not only to have lived comfortably and
abundantly themselves, but also to have reared
many an orphan from the dust, and to have made
the heart of many a widow leap for joy.
He who takes into his calculations upon life
eternity as Well as time, cannot require any proof
that virtue is a most extensive and permanent
source of power. As happiness is professedly the
continued aim of every human being (however
some people may mistake as to the road which leads
to it), it will be particularly proper to teach tho
student, that the power acquired by virtue is full
of blessings, inasmuch as the benevolent man re-"
joices in the prospect of acquiring the power to do
a deed of good at some future period of time ;

234
that when he acquires the power,' he enjoys happi
ness at the moment that he directs it to the aid of
bis fellow-creatures ; and that the recollection of
power so employed is a salient, living spring of un
utterable delight.
Neither will those who have examined the actual
state of human society, require many words to
make them comprehend that vice is a source of
power ; therefore the pupil should be taught, that
the power derived from this last feculent source is
unsatisfactory and perturbed ; that the vicious man
has no solid enjoyment in the anticipation of power,
because he does not desire it for the purpose of
augmenting the mass of human happiness; that
he has no comfort when he acquires the power,
because he knows not how to use it rightly ; and
that he has no pleasure in reflecting upon the power
ivhich he has obtained, because it only added to
the tears, and increased the groans of suffering and
afflicted humanity.
Since the destined aim of man on earth is to ac
quire power, and to direct that power to the pro
motion of the virtue and the happiness of his fel
low-creatures, it follows, of course, that whatever
method tends honourably to increase the capabili
ties of acquiring power, should be carefully pur
sued in a plan of enlarged and liberal, education:

235
for this purpose I know nothing more effectual
than the habit of public speaking. The custom of
speaking in public gives the mind a certain degree
of dignified confidence in itself, an easiness of man
ner, and a commanding flow of language, all pe
culiarly adapted to extend the dominion of plea
surable influence over the opinion of men, and
therefore should be cultivated with all imaginable
assiduity.
¦ i 1 would also inculcate into the mind of my child,
the great advantages resulting from a systematic
plan of repeating the finest passages of the best
writers both of antient and modern days. I would
advise him, early in life, to commit to memory an
ample store of such treasures; and, throughout the
Whole of his existence, to retain them in his recol
lection, which may be easily done, by regularly re
peating all that he has learned from the beginning
to the end, and then beginning again. Suppose,
for instance, that he can repeat ten thousand lines
of the Greek and Latin and other poets, he can
easily repeat a few hundred of these every day
while he is dressing himself, or walking along the
street, till the whole number is gone through, and
then let him begin again.
Neither let him fancy that there will be any
weariness of the spirit produced by this method ;

236
for if heaven has blessed him with a single ray of
genius, one little beam of fancy, one feeble glim
mering spark of reason, he will perceive new beau
ties at every repetition, will acquire strength in all
the faculties of his mind, will exalt and purify his
heart, and obtain such a copious flow of appropriate
and energetic expression, as to render his powers
pf eloquence commanding, dignified, irresistible,
I am the more inclined to this plan of continu
ally repeating passages from the best poets, because
I consider their sentiments as the sentiments of the
human heart, embodied into words by superior
sensibility and genius ; poetical ideas are the pure
feelings of the soul, of which every one is. consci
ous, but which few can express,; consequently
every human being endued with sensibility and
feeling, must be highly interested in, and greatly
influenced by poetry.
I am thoroughly convinced, that if the works of
our best poets were more generally studied and
comprehended than they now are, vice and immor
rality would be palsied in their nerves and sinews ;
because the sentimepts to be found in those books,
if they are felt and understood,: raise the mind to
such a state of pure and pleasurable excitement,
that it cannot possibly, while under their influence,
descend to the contaminating degradation of grp-

237
Veiling and sensual iniquity. Let any one observe
the movements Of his heart while he feels the thrill
of sublime delight, or of pathetic emotion, excited
by some of the strains of Burns, of Beattie, of
Thomson, of Milton, and of Young, and he will
find that they are all tuned to benevolence, to af
fection, to gratitude, love, and adoration of HIM
who rideth upon the wings of the wind ; no base,
selfish, and unworthy sensation can find its way
into a mind occupied by such noble and exalted
views. He who acquires an early habit of delighting in,
and of committing to memory passages from the
best poets, will never know that fatal hour when,
his heart-chords shall cease to vibrate at the sweet
impulses of benevolence and of kindness. The
sentiments of poets are the most exalted and the
most dignified sentiments of humanity, arrayed in
the splendid garb of language the most forcible and
impressive ; whence all the emotions which melt
the glowing heart, or chain the soul in speechless
pleasure, or dart rapture through each thrilling
nerve, or raise the sigh of sorrow, and bedew the
cheek with pity's tear at the call of misery and the
plaint of woe, or lift up the mind to all the elevated
feelings which adorn and ennoble man, which ren
der him a blessing to his fellow-men, and a zeal
ous, faithful servant of his God, are called forth

238
and roused into action by the strains of our bards-
of higher fame.
This repeating plan is an admirable mode of in-*"
struction, because the very effect of learning the'*!
lines very much strengthens the memory, and pours
an incalculable number of new ideas into the young^
mind ; and the repetition of the verses rouses the
imagination to work with more rapidity and greater:
power, owing to the high state of pleasurable ex-:
citement which it induces ; gives a copious flow of
images, a command of language, and the conse
quent power of making a broad display of ability.
It is, in fact, adding another's estate to your own
patrimony, it doubles your wealth.,,
I have somewhere read, but it is at such a dis
tance of time that I forget where, an account of:
Curran, the Irish advocate, of whom it is said, that
his eloquence is of the same impassioned, fiery,;;,
blazing style, as that which Edmund Burke wrote. !
It is also stated, that Curran is heard frequently to
declare, that he owes his super-eminent powers of ^
elocution to his early habit of committing to me-:
mory, and frequently recalling to his remembrance, >'
Select, passages of the Latin poets, particularly
Virgil. And, if I recollect rightly, Dr. Currie, of Li,ver-

239
pool, in his inimitable life of Burns, says, that Ers*
kine, the great leviathan of the English bar, de
rived very much of that resistless eloquence which
sometimes so far wins, even upon the sternness of
justice herself, as to make her incline her steady
scale from its balance, and to deep her sword, and
to blunt its point, even when it should be doubly
sharpened against the foes of the community, the
very destroyers of society, to his very attentive and
incessant perusal, and continual repetition of the
best British poets, particularly the bard of Avon,
Fancy's, darling child.
" All hail, ye mighty masters of the lay,
Nature's true sons, the friends of man and truth !
Whose song, sublimely bold, serenely gay,
Amus'd my childhood, and inform' d my youth.
O, let your spirit still my bosom sooth,
Inspire my dreams, and all my wand'rings guide !
Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth ;
For, well I know, wherever ye reside,
There harmony, and peace,- and innocence abide."
Of all intellectual pursuits, perhaps that of
natural history, when considered throughout its
widest limits, is the most comprehensive in its na
ture, and the most beneficial in its effects. The
naturalist, whose aspiring genius comprehends
every part of his divine science, when called upon
to declare the objects of his pursuit, and the bene
fits thence derived to individuals and to society,

240
would thus describe the field of his investigations,
and the blessings attendant on his exertions.
To trace the footsteps of God, the eternal, infi
nite, omniscient, and omnipoterit, throughout all
the empire of nature, he would say was the high
mark and calling to which the Whole power of his
talents was directed. The empire of nature, so far
as our mortal ken is able to grasp its extent, con
sists of the stars and the elements. The stars are
fixed, or revolutionary, and are " denominated ac
cording to their stations, magnitudes, and courses.
The elements pervade all our visible and known
objects, and consist ©f fire, air, earth, and water ;
if, indeed, water can be called an element, since
the new discoveries of chemistry have pointed out
to us the method of its decomposition.
To the earth the attention of the naturalist is
more immediately directed, and by him generally
termed the kingdom of nature. It is divided into
the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms. ' The
mineral kingdom occupies the earth, and consists
of concreted bodies, possessing neither life nor
feeling. The vegetable kingdom clothes the earth;
and consists of bodies organized, and endowed with
life, but without feeling. The animal kingdom
adorns the earth, and consists of organized, living,
feeling, and locomotive bodies.

241
The component parts of these kingdoms are
divided into numerous classes and orders. The
animal kingdom is divided into six classes, each of
which is subdivided into several orders and genera;
for, without system, labour has been found to be
useless, and research unprofitable. The first class
contains seven orders and forty-eight genera, the
first of which is denominated homo or man. From
man, in whom the Almighty Cause of these things
has placed a portion of his divine light, and given
him a pre-eminence over all his works, does an en
larged view of this scierice descend by easy and
regular gradations, through all the kingdoms of
animate and inanimate nature, down to the mi-.
nutest particles of existing matter.
Such is the almost boundless expanse which the
naturalist endeavours to grasp ; and Such the ob
jects, whose nature, use, and design he labours to
comprehend, not only that his own mind, at every
step of his progress, might be enlarged, refined,
elevated, and filled with the power of wisdom, but
also that mankind, by his exertions and his disco
veries, might be improved in their condition.
What does not civilized man owe to the culti
vation of this science ? Does he not owe food and
raiment, and all the products of art ; are not all
these the offspring of an examination and a know-
R

242
ledge of natural bodies ? And is every region of
nature exhausted ; does the earth contain no more
riches in her womb; has the vegetable world no
more substances, as yet unexplored, -by whose vir
tues the diseases incident to the human frame may
be removed or alleviated, by which our cpmforts
and conveniences may yet be increased and height
ened ; arc there no animals yet suffered to roam
at large upon the face of the earth, with, whose
properties we are unacquainted ? Has knowledge
arrived at such a pitch of perfection , that nothing
remains in this science to be investigated ? ,
Since, then, mankind has received so much be.->
nefit at the hands of the industrious and enlight
ened examiners of nature, even from the savage,
who is employed in his lonely and inhospitable
waste in search of herbs to cure his maladies, or of
roots to appease the pangs of hunger, up to the
polished inhabitant of Europe, who is daily occu
pied, theoretically or experimentally, on the best
means of promoting natural knowledge (or history,
as it is called), Jet. no vain attempt at ridicule upon
this study be heard in any circle or condition of
enlightened society. In the dark ages, the study
of nature was decried, and its votaries persecuted
and punished. This may be credited of ages
gloomy and barbarous, as those which slowly rolled
over the reign of the monks ; but that a science,

243
so comprehensive in its scope and view, and in its
effects so beneficial, should now be considered as
light and frivolous, almost surpasses belief. i
The minds of those employed in the cultivation
of natural history, become expanded, cheerful, be
nevolent, raised, refined, in proportion to the ex
tent of their researches. For, more than all other
sciences, this introduces her to a nearer approach,
and a more intimate acquaintance with Nature's
God, and teaches her that His majesty, beauty,
power, and glory, dwell in every place, and abide
on every, even the smallest, particles of matter.
The study of natural history, then, riot only pro
duces incalculable advantages to the human race
in general, but also to individuals a degree of wis
dom, power, and happiness, which can only be ex
ceeded by an emancipation from the shackles of
mortality, and an admittance into those regions,'
where wisdom is perfected, arid bliss unalloyed and
eternal. «( Heav'n's King! whose face unveil' d consummates bliss,
Redundant bliss! which fills that mighty void
The whole creation leaves in human hearts!
Thou, who didst touch the lips of Jesse's son, '
Rapt in sweet contemplation of these fires,
And set his heart in concert with the spheres!
While of thy works material the supreme
I dare attempt, assist my daring song,
Loose me from earth's enclosure, from the sun's
R2

244
Contracted circle set my heart &% large;
Eliminate my spirit, give.il; range
Through provinces of thought yet unexplor'd ;
Teach me, by this stupendous scaffolding,
Creation's golden steps, to climb to Thee.
Teach me with Art great Nature to oontrol,
And spread a lustre o'er the shades of night."
I would teach my child to acquire a taste, for the
fine arts, in order that he may have as many inlets
to pure pleasures and/ knowledge as possible. . A
taste for painting gives a peculiar quickness of at
tention, an alertness of observation on all the ob
jects of nature and art, that must be peculiarly
calculated to quicken the perceptive powers of the
mind, and enable it to lay up an ample store of
ideas, on which the imagination may exert its di-
vi nest energies in forming new arrangements and
combinations. Sculpture, also, though in a less.
degree, serves advantageously and pleasurably to
exercise the primary and, likewise, the higher fa
culties of the mind.
I am decidedly an advocate for teaching youth
every .kind of knowledge that in itself has no mo
ral turpitude^ from which may be derived sources
of innocent employment and delight at any future
period of comparative leisure. The fine arts are
peculiarly adapted to soften and humanize the
mind, to give an exquisite delicacy to the senti-

245
ments, to impart a fascinating polish to the man
ners, and render the soul more capable of pure
and refined thoughts^ than can easily be obtained
from any other of all the various modes of exercis
ing the human mind. The pebeil's magic and
creative touch calls forth all the powers of fancy, of
imagination, of genius, all that ennobles, adorns,
and ameliorates human nature.
— — " Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man ;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside : these pencils and figures are
Even such as they give out; what a mental power
This eye shoots forth ; how big imagination
Moves on this lip t to the dumbness of gesture
One might interpret
It is a pretty mocking of the life :
Here is a ldok— is it good J I'll say of it,
It tutors nature; artificial strife '
Lives in these touches livelier than life."
It is worthy of remark, that the fine arts and \u
terature generally go hand in hand together1, and
the times favourable for the production of one ex
tend the hand of patronage to the other ; an ob
servation which has not escaped the notice pf a
most elegant and classically chastened writer of the
present day, who says :
" Those periods of time which have been most
R3

246 *
favourable to' the .progress of' letters and' science",
have generally been distinguished by a proficiency
in the arts. The productions of Roman sculpture,
in its best ages, bear nearly the same proportion to
those of the Greeks, as the imitative labours of the
Roman authors bear to the original works of their
great .prototypes., During the long ages of igno
rance that succeeded the fall of the western em
pire, letters and the fine arts underwent an equal
degradation ; and it would be as difficult to point
out a literary work of those tirries, which is entitled
to approbation, as it would be to produce a statue
or a picture. When these studies began to revive,
a Guido da Sienna, a Cimabue rivalled a Guittone
d'-Arezzo, Or. a Piero delle Vigne. The crude
buds that had escaped the severity of so long a
winter, soon began to swell ; and Giotto, Buffal-
macco, and Gaddi, were the contemporaries of
Dante, of BoCcacio, and of Petrarca."
Music is particularly calculated to convey the
sublime conceptions of genius to sensible and cul*
tivated minds. Impressions made upon the ear do
not arrest the attention so much as those made on
the other organs of sense, and, consequently, are
better -adapted' to rouse the imagination into ac
tion, for, where attention ends,, imagination gene
rally begins; but they cannot both exist. in the
same mind at one time. Neither is the pleasure

247
which we receive from impressions made on the
orgah of hearing less delightful than those made on
our other senses. The dashing of the torrent, the
far-resounding roaring of the main, and' the soft
breathings of affection, are sensations which can
not be received without delight, nor remembered
Without rapture. Almost no exertion of attention
is necessary; in languor, in sickness, in melancholy,
arid in sorrow, melody and harmony cheer and so
lace the heart, when objects of sight cannot be at
tended to or endured*
 " Sitting on a bank

Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air."
The influence of music upon the imagination is
peculiarly powerful, because the impressions made
on the organ of hearing have little or no tendency
to direct the attention to realities. Musical sound
is the language of the heart, understood by all
minds endued with sensibility, whence its peculiar
adaptation for conveying and preserving the glow
ing impressions of enraptured genius. It must not,
however, be dissembled, that the ideas raised in
the mind by music are vague and undetermined,
not fixed and directed to a given point as are those
excited by poetry, but receive their complexion
R4

248 ,
from the prevailing disposition pf the mind at. the
moment. If we wish to. melt the jieart into pity
and tenderness, we can accomplish this effect by
means of poetry ; while soft music might produce
pity, or melancholy, or sorrow, or despair, accord
ing to the previous tone of the mind.
It is objected by some, that music softens and
enervates the mipd, rendering it unfit to bear up
against the necessary trials and inevitable difficul-
tfes of life. But this objection is contradicted by
the experience of all ages. Pray, do the comman
ders of armies wish to enervate the minds of their
soldiers, when they lead them tp battle, the most
dreadful of all, trials, that they always advance to
the charge of death accompanied with the sound
of music ? I
" Anon they moy'd

In perfect phalanx to the Dorian, wopd,
With flutes and soft recorders, such as rais'd
To height of noblest temper heroes old,
Arming to battle; and instead of rage ¦
Deliberate valour bveath'd, firm and unmov'd,
With dread of death, to flight, or foul retreat."
Not that 1 would wish to be understood as ap
plauding any means by which the human mind is
stimulated to deeds of slaughter and of blood ; I
rather turn my eye with delight to contemplate

249
the beneficial effects of music in soothing the lace
rated heart, wpping the wounded spirit to repose,
and charming all its griefs to rest,
" Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage
With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase
Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain
From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they,
¦ Breathing united force, with fixed thought,
Mov'd on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd
Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil."
Little, indeed, are the feelings of those to be
envied, whose heart-chords do not vibrate in uni
son with those sounds that melt the soul to com
passion, or raise it on the wings of extatic adora
tion to the throne of heaven.
" Is there a heart that music cannot melt?
Alas ! how is that rugged heart forlorn !
Is there, who ne'er those mystic transports felt,
Of solitude and melancholy born?
He need not woo the Muse; he is her scorn.
The sophjst's. rope of cobweb he shall twine;
Mope o'er the schoolman's peevish page, or mourn,
And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine,
Sneak with the scoundrel fox, or grunt with glutton swine,
" Responsive to the sprightly pipe, when all
In sprighdy dance the village youth were join'd,
Edwin, of melody aye held in thrall,
From the rude gambol far remote reclin'd,

25d
Sboth'd.with the soft' notes Warbling in the wind.
Ah, then, all jollity seem'd noise and folly,
To the pure soul by Fancy's fire refin'd,
Ah, what is mirth but turbulence unholy,
When with the charm compar'd of heavenly melancholy."
Now that his mind was thoroughly, expanded
and strengthened by an enlarged and liberal edu
cation, I would send my pupil abroad for a few
years, that he may impart his stores of knowledge
to able and well informed men of other nations,
and, in return, receive ample instruction as to the
ctistoms, tnanners, laws, policy, and resources of
different countries, arid also acquire an incredible
augmentation of ideas frorii contemplating the va
rious objects of the surrounding Scenery of nature,
and examine the productions of art, which bright
demand the attention of one, whose chief care it
was to combine utility with pleasure in all his pur
suits and views.
And, to crown all, I would inculcate, as a most
indispensable and sacred duty, the necessity of
universal benevolence in thought, word, arid deed,
as the only permanent and effectual mode of gain
ing and imparting power and happiness. Our'
avenues to power must be extremely limited~and
narrowed, unless we can come into personal con
tact with our fellow beings, in order to exercise
the influence of truth and reason over their opi-

251
nioris ; but we cannot gain access to them unless
by kindness and gentleness.
Neither let any one object, that he cannot en
dure an intercourse with people of weak, slow, and
uncultivated minds, from whom he can receive,
and to whom he can impart, no information Or
delight. Let such a one remember, that the very
exercise of patience in listening to the tardy effu
sions of a slow and uncultivated understanding,
must be of material benefit to his own mind ; andj
that he cannot fail of highly gratifying and delight
ing the person to whose discourse he pays such
kind and fascinating attention ; whence, by Secur
ing the full measure of influence over his opinion,
useful truths and beneficial information might be
insinuated into his mind, under the soft and gentle
guise of friendly admonition taking a lively interest
in his welfare.
It is also incumbent on every one who assigns
so arrogant and cruel a reason for his want of be
nevolent conduct towards his fellow men, to re
flect, that the divine Founder of our religion,
whose mind was infinitely superior to that of the
wisest created being, always treated those who ap
proached him with mildness and urbanity; there
by setting a bright example to all his followers,
that they should imitate him in every softer grace,

252,
as well as in every nobler virtue. Let it never be
forgotten, that the most valuable possessions and
the most solid acquisitions of understanding and
of virtue, are, but of little avail towards imparting
happiness to others, without the ornament of mild,
gentle, and benevolent manners ; like the rough
diamond in the mine, which is liable to be over
looked and thrown aside, as possessing neither uti
lity nor Value* till the last efforts of the artist have
produced the polish, the brilliancy,, the lustre, the;
permanency of beauty.
There is, however, one circumstance, which
some men (in other respects wise and good) fancy
entitles them to throw off the mild features of be
nevolence, and to assume the rigid frown of unre
lenting severity, I mean when they attack those
whom they deem to be people guilty of vice or
folly, by a pen dipped in all the bitterness of sa
tire. But this opinion is founded on a mistaken
calculation as to the effects produced upon the
human mind by harshness, and a want of due at
tention both to the letter and the spirit Of the
gospel. It may, perhaps,, be positive virtue to entertain
a thorough disgust and abhorrence, of vice; but
to bear with it in gentleness and in mercy, with
the hope of reclaiming it by the voice of soothing

253
and of kindness — this alone is acting in obedience
to the mandates of that blessed religion, which has
enjoined us to let brotherly love continue. The
one leads to sullen and useless misanthropy, which
shuns all opportunity of doing good to mankind ;
it leads also to pernicious and destructive malevo
lence, which turns all its powers and all its abili
ties to the devising and executing modes of mental
torture,, by which to wound and agonize the feel
ings of all those of the human race,, on whom a
perverted fancy and a capricious irritation may
choose to fix the seal of disapprobation and dis
pleasure : but the other directs to benevolence
and to charity, which pour the balm of comfort
into the afflicted, and bind up the broken-hearted,
which teach us to forgive a brother, though he
offend seventy times seven, and to look into our
own hearts in order to purify them from all un
righteousness, to survey our fellow men with kind
ness and affection, and to prostrate ourselves be
fore the throne of God and his Christ, in all meek
ness and humility.
It is absurd, it is impious in any one to presume
to set up his own opinion as the standard of right
and wrong, to which he requires others to bow
down, under pain of incurring all the cruelty
which his offended resentment can inflict. The
gospel has plainly pointed out to us our duty ; and

254
it has also shewn that men are to bfe led to virtue
by mildness and mercy; indeed they cannot be
goaded into goodness by the stings of cruelty and'
torture, It is the business of the moralist and the philo
sopher to set forth the advantages of virtue, and
the miseries inseparably connected with vice. And
this purpose he is at full liberty to effect by laying
down general positions,' which he may illustrate by
particular examples ; but religion forbids him to
destroy the peace of any living individual, under
the fallacious pretence of doing gobd to the gene
rality of mankind ; because this is positive evil, and
we are forbidden to do evil, that good may follow,
and because the same quantity of good might be
brought about by means, unproductive of any such
evil, ¦
Moralists, therefore, may! attack vice. and' folly,
and shew forth their deformity by general reason
ing, and by particular instances, provided no indi-.
vidual is so plainly marked out, that all his neigh
bours might be able to say — that is he ; — because
then the end of all moral writing is defeated, both
with regardto the individual marked out, and also
in respect of all his acquaintance; for bad and
malevolent passions, as rage, hatred, and desire of
revenge, against the writer, are excited in t,he

255
heart of the individual so gibbetted, and all man
ner of iniquitous tattling and gossiping scandal, is
encouraged in the neighbours of the person so
lashed, and they run about tormenting others, and
rendering themselves more and more wicked and
contemptible, by the .effusions of pitiful malevo
lence, but awkwardly concealed under the flimsy
veil of pretended candour and affected friendship.
In this case then, we see that the moralist has
missed his aim, and at least his pretensions to wis
dom may be called in question, if the purity of bis
heart be not greatly to be suspected. Every writer
who sincerely wishes to promote the welfare of
mankind, should exert all his endeavour to lead
his fellow-creatures to virtue, and to win them-
from the paths of vice; but this cannot be done by
irritating, lashing, and torturing them, as if he was
actuated by the spirit of enmity and malice ; but.
by soothing and comforting them, which is the very
essence of all friendship.
Let him, therefore, lay down his general posi-'
tions, and illustrate them by particular instances,
in such a manner, as to make all his strictures
common property, so that although many an indi
vidual may, when he looks into his own heart, say,
I am guilty of this or that fault, which the writer
has, described— yet that no one may be able to say,

25(5
that his neighbour or acquaintance is particularly
marked out by any character drawn, and in con-
sequence, to render that acquaintance or neigh'-'
bour miserable by detailing to him every word and
syllable in the book, which he knows_or thinks will
give pain and anguish.
It is one of our most principal duties to be par
ticularly careful not to wound the feelings of an
other, because we thereby, as far as we are able*
poison the sources of his felicity, and consequently
retard his progress towards a higher degree of
virtue ; ,for the human mind, when labouring
under any misery inflicted by a mortal agent, is
stimulated to call forth and to cherish malevolent
and destructive passions. Nothing renders a man
more amiable and endearing than a delicate atten
tion not to hurt the feelings of his fellow-men ;
such a man sheds the mild lustre of benevolence
over all bis thoughts, words, and dee'ds^ One
specimen ofthis admirable delicacy I cannot for
bear from mentioning, because it has always ap
peared to me to be a brighter jewel in the king's
prown, than all the splendour of his military at-
chievements. , Louis the Fourteenth, one morning at his levee,
declared that he was going to tell a very excellent
story, which would convulse all hrs •hearers with

257
laughter. The story, however, when related,
proved so very flat and insipid, that the surround
ing courtiers with difficulty squeezed a constrain
ed and reluctant simper, into their obsequious
faces. The monarch took no notice of this, but
continued to converse with his accustomed gaiety
and ease, till the Prince d'Armagnac left the room.
Now, said the king, I will tell you the whole story,
which I am sure will make you all laugh, but I
recollected v/hen I had gotten into the middle of
it, that the point and sting of the jest turned on
something which would probably give pain to the
Prince d'Armagnac, and therefore I left, it out and
spoiled my story. Louis now related the whole
anecdote, and it was found replete with wit and
humour. When in the fulness of time, and in the matu
rity of manhood, all these things shall have been
acquired, the student may direct his chief atten
tion to some particular profession, in the pursuit
of which, with a mind so chastened and invigorat
ed by cultivation, he cannot fail of commanding
success, even although his talents may not be rais
ed above the standard of mediocrity.
And if fortune has so favoured him, that he
is not necessitated to submit to any professional
employment in order to raise a revenue, he will
S

258
find himself well qualified to step forward upon
the great theatre of public life, and play an active
and an exalted part, amidst the wisest and the most
¦ profound statesmen of his country. Or, if his incli
nation leads him, and it can be done with honour
and integrity, he may retire from, or decline to
guide the helm ; and in the tranquillity of retire
ment, seek to extend bis knowledge still farther-
to purify and exalt his heart, to tune his soul to
the exquisite sensations of domestic bliss, to teach
the young idea how to shoot, to rear the infant
mind in the practice of piety, of morality, of for
titude, of benevolence, arid of every virtue, which
shall enable it to discharge both public duties and
private functions with honour to itself, with credit
to its instructor, and with benefit to mankind.
" Be man's peculiar work thy sole delight,
Falsehood and guile eschew, maintain the right,
By pleasure uriseduced, unaw'd by lawless might.
" And from the prayer of want and plaint of woe,
O never, never, turn away thine ear !
Forlorn in this bleak wilderness below,
Ah !' what were man, should Heaven refuse to hear,
To others do (the law is not severe)
What to thyself thou wishest to be done,
Forgive thy foes, and love thy parents dear,
And friends, and native land, nor those alone,
All human weal, and woe learn thou to make thine own."

25Q
SECT. VIII.
On th& Recreations or Amusements of the Friend's.
. BARCLAY, in his 15th proposition, lays down
these rules for the guidance of Friends, as to their
choice of amusements; namely, that the fear of
God is the best recreation in the world ; that
Friends may visit one another, hear'or read history,
speak soberly of present or past transactions, follow
after gardening, use geometrical and mathematical
experiments, and other things of like nature.
There can be no doubt that these amusements
pointed out by Barclay, open abundant and fruit
ful sources of the most pure and simple pleasures,
calculated at once to amend the heart, by promot
ing the genial glow of mutual intercourse and
reciprocity of benevolence; and also to chasten
and strengthen the mind by directing its. attention
towards the investigation of the boundless trea
sures of literature and of science. In the appro
bation of Barclay's wisdom and goodness, as to •
these particulars, every sensible and' benevolent
heart must most readily accord.,
But in this same proposition throughout several
pages he is actually quite violent against all thea-
S2

260
trical amusements, hinting, in no very ambiguous
expressions, the miserable condition of those in
the other world, who are so ungodly as to wander
to a playhouse in this. The Book of Extracts also
most devoutly enjoins the strictest abstinence from
playhouses, and the commission of all other sins of
the like hideous nature.
I do not wonder so much at Barclay's vehe
mence against the stage, for at the time when he
Wrote, in the reign of the most profligate and aban
doned monarch that ever disgraced the character
of man, it was certainly a complete school for im
morality and vice ; for obscenity, ribaldry, bias-
phemy,'and the grossest iniquity of every kind,
was not only tolerated, but encouraged in all the
scenical, representations of that day.
But the purer sentiments, and the more correct
morals of succeeding ages, have banished, from the
stage ^that horrid impiety and disgusting ribaldry,
which so. justly raised the indignation of all wise
and good mev, and theatrical representations are
now, as far as I can judge, calculated rather to
promote than to retard the cause of virtue, by
holding up folly to ridicule, and branding vice with
contempt and detestation.
There can be no doubt that the stage, properly

26 1
regulated, may be made a most powerful instru
ment to form a people's manners, to lead them to
propriety of behaviour, to decency of conduct, to
give ardour to virtue, and confidence to truth.
Theatrical spectacles speak at once to the eye and
to the ear; and if these, the two most refined of
our senses, are properly acted upon, we shall be
enabled to enjoy the most exquisite pleasure, and
at the same time be led forward to moral improve
ment. By frequenting a well supported, stage, the
auditors might be civilized and amended,, because
they would there see coarseness and brutality ridi
culed, all the follies and foibles of mankind laugh
ed at, whilst its vices were severely lashed, and its
crimes held up to public contempt and public inr
dignation. The Friends are also averse from all field-sports,
whose diversion consists in murdering innocent
animals; nor can any benevolent and humane
mind forbear from applauding such their aversion,
" Th' applause of strength, dexterity, and speed,
To them nor vanity nor joy can bring,
Their heart from cruel sport estrang'd, would bleed
To work the woe of any living thing,
By trap, or net, by arrow, or by sling ;
These they detest, and those they scorn to wield,
They wish to be the guardians, not the kings,
Tyrants, far less, or traitors of the field, ,
And sure the sylvan reign unbloody joy might yield."
S3

262
As to public routs, and general visitings, I know
not that they are in the smallest degree calculated
either to improve the mind or to amend the heart;
and all employment, and all recreation, which does
not promote one or both of these most desirable
ends, I hold to be as worse than nothing, as alto-:
gether vanity and vexation of the spirit.
My opinion on the fine arts (as a mode of em.
ployment and amusement) to which I apprehend
the Friends pay no very decided tribute of ap
probation, has been , already delivered in the pre*
ceding section. SECT. IX.
The Moral Conduct of the Friends,
I HAVE no words sufficiently forcible to rcpreT
*sent the swelling sensations of my soul, when I
contemplate the high standard of morality erected
by the*Sociefy of Friends. Honesty, decency, So
briety, moral restraint, abhorrence of all violence
and blood, charity, kindness, benevolence, and a
long catalogue of other virtues, claim the applause
and the approbation of all the human race to be
poured in one full tide of tributary gratitude and.
^admiration towards the disciples pf Barclay.

263
But one circumstance I must beg the indul
gence to dwell on for a while, because it is so pe
culiarly gratifying to all the better feelings of my
heart — it is the exemplary, the inimitable conduct
of the Friends as parents ; I have never, at any one
period of my life, felt my soul so thoroughly bathed
in bliss, so near to heaven, as when I have wit
nessed the family circle of a Friend ; how cheerily
did the currents of my life flow, to seethe father's
chest swell and heave with grateful exultation, and
the mother's countenance glow with seraphic sweet
ness, her eyes beam with unutterable joy, while
they witnessed and participated in the artless
prattle of their little ones, their innocent endear
ments and caresses, their little hands twining
round each other's necks in all the fervour of un
disguised fondness, and occasionally climbing the
father's knee the grateful kiss to share, or hiding
in the mother's lap emotions too extatic tp be ex
pressed I
That great and good man, Dr. Isaac Watts, re
commends to grown people a frequent intercourse
with little children, in order to calm and tranquil--
lize every improper desire, and to hush the wild
uproar of the world's conflicting passions into
peace. And never was advice more full of wisdom
and benevolence; for I defy even the most brutal
wretch, if he will only mix one single half hour in
S4

264
the sports and amusements of babes, full of inno
cence and mirth, blithe as the lambs on yonder
hill, and careless ilka thought and free, not to find
his heart perceptibly softened, and better fitted to
receive the pure dictates- of morality, and the hal
lowed precepts of religion.
Socrates, the wisest of all the Heathens, was ac
customed frequently to mix in the plays and games
of little children. And it is credibly reported of
the Lord Chancellor King, that he was one day
found riding on a stick in the midst of his own
little boys and girls. I must confess, that this trait
of character always excited in my heart more es
teem and veneration for the chancellor than all
his talents and acquirements, although those ac
quirements and those talents were extensive and
profound. Neither does any occurrence in all the pages of
history, that faithful but bloody record of human
actions, impart to my soul such unmixed and pure
delight, as that which relates to us the behaviour
of a caliph, whose genius and intrepidity vnadethe
nations of the earth to tremble at his name. On
the eve of a decisive battle, which was won by his
wisdom and his valour, this amiable monarch amus
ed and delighted himself in his tent by beholding
bis children riding on the scabbard of hisscymitar,

and playing with the plumes of his turban; and
when one of his generals presumed to reprove him
for pusillanimity and effeminacy, for a conduct
which exalts man into the nature of an angel, he
dismissed the brutal wretch from his service, as
not being qualified to inspire his soldiers to deeds
of heroism and honour, by treating them with
kindness and with humanity. SECT. X.
On the Religious Conduct of the Friends.
THE duty which I owe to truth and justice com
pels me to declare, that the Friends in their con
duct approach as near to the purity of their reli
gious tenets, as the imperfections of humanity will
allow : what those tenets are has been already suf
ficiently discussed in the first chapter of this work.

266

CHAPTER III.
ON THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS AS A BODY POLITIC,
GOVERNED BY THEIR OWN LAWS AND ORDI
NANCES, AND DISTINCT FROM THE OTHER OR
DERS OF THE COMMUNITY.
I SHALL consider the Friends as a Society go
verned by their own laws, under the three follow
ing heads of religion, morals, and policy.
SECT. I.
On the Religious Establishment of the Friends.
THE meeting for sufferings is holden in London
four times a year ; it consists of at least one Friend
from each county, appointed by the quarterly meet.
ing of that county, any, or all of whom are requir
ed to be in readiness to repair to town as occasion
may demand. It also consists of correspondents
appointed by the several quarterly meetings, and
by foreign parts communicating with the meeting
for sufferings, and of approved men-ministers.
None can be appointed members of this meeting,

267
pnless they are faithful in the several branches of
christian testimony (according to the peculiar te
nets of the Friends), against tithes, bearing arms,
and oaths, and their conduct and conversation be
good, and their apparel, speech, and behaviour
plain. The business of this meeting is, to take into con
sideration all those circumstances which occasion
temporal annoyance and trouble to the Friends on
account of their religious opinions, as being dis*
trained for not paying tithes, not contributing to
wards building or repairing steeple-houses (anglici,
churches), 8cc &c. It is also empowered to re
ceive and judge of applications made by people
under convincement, that is, convinced of the
truth and efficacy of the Society's religious docr
trines, ,and desirous of being admitted into mem
bership, It may then authorize any monthly meet
ing to administer all necessary discipline to the
persons newly convinced.
Of this meeting little need be said by way of
comment. It appears a judicious mode of regu
lating their religious affairs, as it consists of a com
plete representative system ; their whole Society be
ing represented by individuals chosen and sent from
every separate and distinct department of their com-
rnunity, Their scruples of conscience as to tithes,

268
churches, and indeed every thirig appertaining to
the national clergy, have been already noticed. It
should, however, be remarked, that all their pro
ceedings are carried on in the true spirit of meek
ness and forbearance, patiently submitting to the
cross of Christ, in that they have been afflicted:by.
tithes, and other sufferings, without any murmur
or hint of opposition to the government, under the
shadow of whose political authority they are pre
served and protected in all their civil rights and
blessings. The morning meeting of ministers and elders is
required to receive the approbation of the meeting
for sufferings, in order to dispose of books in truth's
service, to reprint books, or to print new publica
tions. No one can be entered in the morning
meeting's book as a minister, till he or she produce
a certificate from the monthly or quarterly meet
ing to which be or she belongs. The members of
the morning meeting are required tenderly to help
and encourage young ministers, and advise others
as they shall see meet.
As this meeting is merely a kind of appendage
to that for sufferings, and guided by similar regu
lations, no further comment on it is necessary,
than what was made above on the meeting for suf
ferings.

a,6a
The Friends are most earnestly and impressively
exhorted to attend diligently and constantly on
first-day and on week-day meetings for worship,
to bring their children with them, to wait in silence
upon God, to keep stedfastly in the faith and alle
giance due to Christ, to be serious in their deport
ment, and spiritually inclined ; not to neglect at
tendance at these meetings on account of the small-
ness ©f the congregation, nor through too great
anxiety about worldly and temporal concerns ; not
to neglect previous preparation of the heart, by de
voutly meditating on religious matters. It is also
enjoined, that if any Friends persist in absenting
themselves from the religious meetings of the So
ciety, they shall be dealt with, by the monthly meet
ing to which they belong, even to disowning, if the
case require it. }
All these regulations are so admirably calculated
to promote the cause of piety and of religion, that
they only require to be known, to receive the ho
mage of applause fromevery benevolent and virtu
ous heart.
The ministers among the Friends are exhorted
to be diligent and faithful in the discharge of their
sacred duty; not to contradict each other, or shew
any marks of division in public meetings ; that, in
all their preaching, writing, or conversing about

270
the things of God, they keep to the form of sound
words or scripture terms, and not pretend to be
wise above what is written, and to go about to ex
plain the things of God in the words which man's
wisdom teaches. '
If by this last remark is meant, that of two men
with an equal portion of will to serve God, one
who is ignorant and unlettered will be able more
effectually to teach the precepts of the gospel, than
could the other, who had enlarged and exalted his
understanding by an ample and elevated educa
tion, it is contradicted by the experience of every
day, which plainly proves, that religion has no such
zealous and steady support as that which she re
ceives from the combined and mutual exertions of
faith and knowledge. But, if it is only meant to
warn men against the pernicious foppery of preach
ing merely to shew their own acquirements, or to
display their own graces of gesture and of elocu
tion, instead of heartily and sincerely delivering
the Word pf God, as they feel the full efficacy of
divine influence on their souls, every christian, and
every man of sense, must admit its validity and
justice. The ministers are also expressly exhorted to wait
diligently upon the spirit 'of God as the foundation
pf all true knowledge ; not to entangle themselves

271
too closely with the affairs of this life ; to let all
their conversation be in unity and brotherly love ;
to be in harmony and good understanding with
the monthly meetings to Which they belong ; to
behave themselves meekly and prudently when
they travel from home in the Work of the mini
stry ; not to meddle with other people's family or
personal affairs ; not to be given to detraction or
defamation,- and, as soon as their service in the
rriinistry is oVer, to return to their own habitations,
and exercise all due care over their own households.
The ministers are likewise exhorted, in all reli
gious meetings appointed for the worship of the
Almighty, to wait in humble reverence for the in
fluence of the word of life, and not to move in acts
of devotion of their own will, but wait patiently for
the gift and the enlivening power of the divine
spirit ; not to offer to impose themselves as preach
ers, unless they are faithful against the payment of
tithes, and in observing the other tenets of the
Friends ; to be very diligent in attending all meet
ings appointed for the discipline of the church ;
not to preach for hire, but freely give, as they have
freely received the ministry of the gospel by the
revelation of Christ ; not to goto minister in fo
reign parts without the full concurrence and unity
of their brethren.

2/2
It is ordained that, in each monthly; meeting*
there be held a meeting of ministers and elders
once in three months, when the queries are to be
read and answered, and tender advice and assist
ance given to those who need it ; that they shall
have a yearly meeting, previous to the yearly meet
ing of the Society ; thatevery meeting of ministers
shall be empowered to advise, exhort, or rebuke
any of their own members, or of those who travel
in the ministry, but not to disown any one ; for
that privilege belongs solely to the monthly, quar
terly, half-yearly, or yearly meetings.
The elders are exhorted to help and inform the
weak ; to watch over, and to advise all young
ministers ; to be very guarded and decent in all
their own conduct ; to lay hands suddenly on no
man ; to examine well before they sanction, by
their approbation, any one's becoming a minister ;
not publicly to oppose any minister who is not ac
tually disowned as such ; to deal privately, in all
tenderness, with ministers u ho do not give satis
faction ; and, if this does not take effect, to com
plain to the monthly meeting to which the offen
der belongs.
The elders are to be appointed by a committee
of judicious Friends out of each monthly meeting,

!?3
craving aid also of a Committee from its quarterly
meeting; they shall be dismissed from their elder
ship by the monthly or quarterly meeting for dis
cipline ; when any elder believes himself called to
the ministry by the Spirit^ he must withdraw from
the meetings of ministers and elders.
All these regulations Of the Friends ate well
adapted to promote the establishment of their own
peculiar tenets, to uphold the cause of sound mora
lity, and to maintain the interests of true religion.
The Friends are advised to encourage faithful
women's meetings, and to promote their being
settled, wherever they might be wanting, by the
monthly and quarterly meetings. The women's
meetings are exhorted to wait for divine wisdom,
in order to give proper advice to those of their own
sex ; to consider of proceedings relating to mar
riage ; to inspect and relieve the wants of the poor
of their own sex, and to apply to the men's meet
ings for the means and for their concurrence ; to
join the men in visiting such women as apply for
admission or re-instatement into membership ; to
deal with female delinquents ; and, in cases of ne
cessity, to have the aid of the men in dealing ; for
they alone are not empowered to proceed to dis-
ownment. T

274
Young convinced persons are to be frequently
visited in the love of God by faithful Friends, for
their encouragement, help; and furtherance in the
truth. No one is to be hastily received into mem
bership, not till the innocency of their lives and
conversation be first manifested, and a deputation
of judicious Friends inquire, into the sincerity of
their convincement, and therewith acquaint the
monthly meeting.
This commendable Caution, as to receiving
people into membership, is one great cause of that
superior morality and decency of conduct which
has so long been tbe ornament of the society, and
the object of applause and of admiration to all
good men.
The Friends are exhorted to be faithful in main
taining their testimony against the burden and im
position of oaths, according to the express prohi
bition of Christ ; and, with all humility, to ac
knowledge the goodness of God in disposing the
legislature to grant them a form of affirmation sa
tisfactory to their consciences.
It is recommended, as an incumbent duty on
Friends, to accustom their children, from early, in
fancy,, to the frequent perusal of the holy scrip-

275
tures, as the external means of teaching the great
mysteries of the ohristian faith, and of inculcating
the purest and most exalted precepts of morality.
All parents, masters, guardians, and instructors, are
earnestly advised to adopt the custom of daily read
ing a portion of the Bible in their families to all
their household.
This advice at once starrips the perfection of
christian zeal and sincerity on the conduct of the
Friends ; for, unless the scriptures are made pur
daily compariioiis throughout the whole of life/ we
shall most assuredly see every circumstance* both
of time and eternity through a dark and perverted
medium, shall run our career of earthly existence
Without comfort, and, in that awful hour of the se
paration of the soul from the body, shall be bereft
of every hope. y
The Friends are particularly enjoined to bear
their antient testimony against the payment of
tithes, as a branch sprung from that antichristian
root, Popish usurpation in church and state ; and
that they submit to no subterfuge whatever as to
the payment of these ecclesiastical dues, but rather
endure spoiling of their goods, and imprisonment,
even unto death.
T2

2?9
Upon the subject of tithes I have already deft-
vered my opinion at full lerigtb..
The Friends are most earnestly exhorted to re
frain from bearing arms, and also steadily to refuse
any contribution whatever, either voluntary, or in
the way of tax, towards aiding the cause of War
fare ; and all those who take upon themselves the
employment of manufacturing weapons of deathy
are disowned by the Society*
This part of the religious conduct of the Friends
is in exact conformity with the precepts of our
blessed Saviour, who came down from heaven to
bring peace on earth, and good will towards men.
Politicians, indeed, may affect; to sneer at this, and
ask vvhgt would become, of us if we could not fight
our enemies; and may adopt the saying of Vol
taire — that the, Society of Friends or Trembleurs (as
he calls them) would long since have been com
pletely devoured, utterly annihilated, if other people
had not fought for their preservation and protec
tion. Without entering into any length of dis
cussion, or attempting to balance the probabilities,
or speculate upon the contingencies of this subject,
we may console ourselves with this reflection, that
, in proportion as this blessed spirit of meekness and
of peace is diffused throughout the world, will the

277
necessity of such remarks as that of Voltaire cease,
and politicians themselves may learn to embrace
the dictates- of Christianity, in that soul-exulting
period, When the knowledge of the Lord shall cover
the earth as the waters cover the sea.
The earnest and impressive zeal which theFriends
uniformly manifest against the iniquitous system
of the slave-trade, redounds most highly to the be
nevolence of their hearts, and to the clearness of
their understandings. Will nothing rouze to re
flection that assemblage of beings (human I dare
not call them) who traffic in the flesh, and trade
in the blood of the wretched African, whose tears
and groans rise up continually, day and night, unto
Heaven, till at length the unsparing power be awak
ened to shed the phial of his wrath upon the head
of the persecutor and the oppressor ?
From this brief review of the religious system of
the Friends, we are enabled to pronounce upon it
this rnost just and honourable eulogium — that it is
admirably calculated to promote the glory of God,
and to augment the felicity and the virtue of man
ih every department of humanity,

T3

278

SECT. II.

The MoralFrovernment of the Friends.
ALL parents and governors of families are most
earnestly exhorted' to educate their children in mo
desty, sobriety, and the fear of God; to breed them
up in the tenets of. the Society; not to send them
to schools where they may learn the corrupt man
ners, fashions, and. language of the world, and of
the heathen in their authors ; to Prit them appren
tices to honest Friends ; to, breed them all up to,
some useful and necessary employments ; to re
prove them with gentleness and kindness ; to be
(especially mothers) particularly careful to instruct
their babes in the knowledge of religion and the
holy scriptures; tp teach- them some modern
tongues, as French, High and Low Dutch, Danish,
&c. in order to propagate the truth ; to. teach them
the vanity of all transitory enjoyments, and to, seek
after that solid peace and serenity of mind which
attends the practice of true religion and, virtue ; to.
frequently call together their families and house
holds, in order to wait upon the Lord, and to read,
the holy scriptures ; tp enjoin simplicity of speech
and plainness of apparel; to restrain the youth
committed tp their charge from frequenting play
houses, and other places of diversion.

279
The school- masters and mistresses, who are
faithful Friends, are to be encouraged, and care
fully inspected by the quarterly and monthly meet
ings, that they improve their scholars in learning,
and keep them from all that would corrupt good
manners. Young men of genius, and of suitable
conduct, but in low circumstances, arc to be en
abled, by assistance from the more opulent Friends,
to take upon themselves the sacred charge of edu
cating youth ; and also those children, whose pa
rents are top indigent to afford; them the blessings
of education, are to be sought out by the members
of the monthly meeting, and given the necessary
aid towards acquiring the rudiments of knowledge.
No books, containing the least taint of atheism
and of infidelity, or having any tendency to excite
improper passions, and weaken the sinews of moral
restraint, that great rock and support upon which
rest all social happiness and order, are ever to be put
into the hands of youth ; but they arc exhorted to
peruse Friends' books, which relate chiefly to the
exposition of the peculiar tenets of the Society, and
to the enforcement of moral duties.
Upon the excellence of the mode of education,
both domestic and public, among the Friends (as
far as it goes) there can be but one opinion ; never
theless we must be allowed most earnestly to desire,
T4

380.
that the great mass of virtue floating in the Society
might be augmented by the only mode of increas
ing it that exists, namely, by extending the boun
daries of their knowledge, by laying a broader and
an ampler basis of education, in order to call forth
the energies of that incalculable quantity of human
ability which is now suffered to lie dormant, and
tp shimber in the minds of the Friends, for want of
heing called into action, by opening to them the
boundless stores of learning, and the inexhaustible
treasures of science.
The Friends are exhorted' to be circumspect in
their conversation; never to trench upon the limits
of impropriety ; never to overstep the modesty of
nature ; to refrain from idle, loquacity, and from
corrupt, communication ; to preserve the most
sprupulous adherence to truth, as, the foundation
of all virtue and confidence among men; to dis
course frequently about those matters which have
a. direct tendency to nourish the sentiments of re
ligion and pure morality in the heart.
The behaviour of the Society, as to chastened and,
undefiled conversation, is beyond all praise.
The Friends are earnestly advised in their con
duct to abstain from all vain and idle habits ; from
all corrupt and sinful practices^ to do every thing

28i
unto the glory of God ; to avoid even the appear
ance of evil, lest, by any levity or indiscretion, they
give occasion of mocking unto scorners, and lay a
stumbling-block of offence in the way of serious
inquirers after truth ; to avoid all evil company ;
to maintain strictly the utmost simplicity of appa-;
rel and of external carriage ; to abstain from hunk
ing and shooting as vain and unprofitable sports ;
for it is much better that our leisure time be em
ployed in serving our neighbour, than in distress
ing God's creatures for our amusement.
The Friends are exhorted to be temperate and
moderate in their use of all temporal matters ;, to
abstain from excess in food and drink ; to avoid all
taverns, alehouses, and places of a similar nature ;
to refrain from too great a desire after the things
of this world ; to remember the poor, and do good
in their life-time ; to deny themselves every idle
and superfluous expence, in order to clothe the
naked, and to feed the hungry ; to visit the habi
tations of want, and cheer the abode of misery with
the smile of benevolence, and the outstretched
arm of early and abundant aid ; to shun all strife
and contention, and to maintain love, Concord, and
peace one with another ; to avoid all gaming, all
illegal dealings ip the public stocks, or government
securities, under pain of being disowned ; to guard

282
against all covetousness, which leads to dishonesty
and fraud ; to avoid, most scrupulously, all tale
bearing, scandal, defamation and detraction, both
ip discpurse and in writing ; and, lastly, the youth
are m°st impressively exhorted to guard against
the first approaches of evil, the first sacrifices of
duty to inclination, and to bend early and cheerr
fully under the forming power of truth ; the midr
dleraged are requested not to shrink from the great
duties of their station ; the aged are exhorted to
be living examples of every christian virtue, and to
shew, by the mild lustre of their setting orb, that
the dawning of their day has been bright, splendid,
and calm as sumpier-suns, and still more blest
than they ; their meetings are enjoined to be all
holden with sanctity and reverence, as in the im-;
mediate presence of the heavenly President, that
thus each standing in his appointed place, the har
mony of the building may be preserved, and the
Society grow up into a holy temple for the Lord.
He who can survey the moral system of the
Friends, and not feel an unutterable glow of de
light warming all the currents of his heart at the
thought pf so much virtue and goodness directed
towards the amelioration of the lot of humanity,
must be a being of a very different, nature from
that either pf man or angel. Surely the laurel,

283
which the pure conduct of the Friends has planted,
will thicken round the temple of their retirement;
the pillars will support it, for the materials are sojid,
and the ground is firm.

SECT. III.

Political Establishment of the Friends.
THE meetings for discipline are holden for the
purpose of reproving disorderly Friends, and of re
cording the repentance and condemnation of per
sons restored to the privileges of the Society. It is
enjoined, with a spirit of benevolence highly ho
nourable to the conduct of the Society, that no
Friend, after repentance and restoration, shall have
his transgression remembered. Neither shall he
be girded at and upbraided for it ; for that is not
according to the mercies of God. It is advised,
that all the meetings be managed in the spirit of
meekness and christian charity; that all those who
act inconsistently with the principles of the Society,
shall be dealt with in all tenderness and brotherly
love, in order to reclaim them, and prevent their
utter exclusion from membership; that all those
engaged in the concerns of meetings shall attend
diligently upon the influence of the Spirit, and be
earnest and zealous in the discharge of their duty;
that in the appointment of elders, age or wealth

284
may be no inducement, but a conduct accordant
with the pure principles of Christianity alone shall
be motives which guide the Friends in their choice
and election ; that any dangerous errors and false
doctrines, tending to deny the great foundation
truths of Christianity, shall be seriously and calmly
refuted, and the persons advancing such doctrines
shall be first privately admonished with all gentler
ness and kindness, and not publicly reproved or
censured, unless they obstinately persist in their
fault ; and then the Society must be cleansed from
all such corrupt and unprofitable members.
Preparative meetings are holden for the purpose
of inquiring after births, burials, and removals, and
to carry accounts thereof to the monthly meetings;
of reading, considering, and answering certain que
ries, as settled by the yearly meeting ; and of ap
pointing representatives to the monthly meeting.
Monthly meetings are empowered to elect dis
creet and pious elders and overseers of the flock j
to watch diligently and deal with all backsliders
in due time, and in a spirit of christian, love and
tenderness, in order to reclaim them from the error
of their ways, and turn the hearts of the disobe
dient unto the wisdom of the just, or, in case of
stubborn audacity, to disown them ; to receive
into membership the children bom after the de-

485
rliat of4 their parents, if they behave themselves of-
derly and soberly, and according to the tenets pf
the Friends ; and to accept or reject the applica*
tion (of those who have been disowned) for re-
admission into the society.
i
Quarterly meetings are empowered to decide
differences relating to any monthly meeting within
its district ; but an appeal lies from their decision
to the yearly meeting. In case of obstinacy on
the part of the monthly meeting, in refusing to
submit to the judgment of the quarterly meeting,
or to appeal to the yearly tneeting, the quarterly
meeting shall be empowered to dissolve such pec
cant monthly meeting, or bring the affair before
the yearly meeting ; nevertheless, the monthly
meeting may appeal to the yearly meeting against
such their dissolution. Where half-yearly meet
ings are established, they are to be regulated by
the same laws and ordinances which direct the
conduct of the quarterly meetings.
For the better managing, ordering, and regu
lating the public affairs of Friends, a general
meeting is annually holden in London. The in
tent and design of the yearly meeting is to super
intend all the affairs relating to the Society, and to
maintain good order, love, unity, and concord
throughout all its members. It consists of repre-

286
sehtiitives frorn every quarterly meeting iri Great
Britain, and from the national meeting in Ireland.
All persons thinking themselves aggrieved by
the judgment of any monthly or other meeting,
may appeal to the quarterly, and, finally, to the
yearly meeting.
In all cases of controversy or difference, Friends
are earnestly advised to have recourse to arbitra
tion, and not to sue each other at law, unless in
cases of extreme baseness and dishonesty on the
part of debtors, when the monthly meetings shall
appoint a deputation to inquire into the nature of
the existing circumstances, arid determine as to
the propriety of the parties concerned betaking
themselves to legal process.
The Friends are advised to walk wisely and cir
cumspectly towards all men, giving no offence to
governmental authority, nor any ways mixing in
political heats and controversies ; but praying for
the good of all, and quietly submitting to the
powers that be, in every thing not opposed to that
sacred illumination bestowed upon them by the
Father of lights, and discountenancing every inde
cent mark of dissatisfaction (both in word and
writing) with regard to the established government
of this kingdom. It is also expressly enjoined,

that Friends be careful not to defraud the king iri
any branch of his revenues, nor to deal in goods
clandestinely imported ; that they avoid all con
cern with public elections, since such are, too ge
nerally, scenes of riot and confusion utterly incom
patible with the tenets of those who profess them
selves to be actuated by the pure spirit of Christi
anity; that they enter not into any military asso
ciations, even against a foreign foe, much less
against those placed in sovereign or subordinate
authority over them — for it is written, " Thou
shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people."
If any Friend defraud the king of any of his cus
toms, duties, or excise, or do any thing whatsoever
to the injury of the king's revenues, or of the com
mon good, or to the hurt of the fair trader, he
shall be reprehended by the monthly meeting, and
admonished to make restitution < for the wrong
done to government, and to the holy truth pro
fessed by the Society.
There is a great display of ingenious disquisition
and learning in the Book of Extracts, under the
title Days and Times, to demonstrate the sinfulness.
of using the words January, February, Sunday,
Monday, &c. which are heathen names, and the.
necessity of calling the months and weeks by-
scripture terms. As I consider words of just so

288
much import and value as is the meaning Which
they are intended to convey to my understanding,
t cannot say that I am so scrupulous about the
use of names and terms. All words are merely
arbitrary signs, invented to denote some defined
and determinate idea; and, since this is the case,
I am just as well satisfied with the word June, as
1 am With the term sixth month, for it conveys to
my mind just as accurate a notion of the time of
the year, nor does it Very frequently call up to my'
mind the remembrance of Juno, one of the hea
then deities ; and if it did, I know not that I
should suffer any great evil, for I should merely
have a greater incitement applied to my mind by
the association of a more abundant number of
images, from which I might be enabled to draw a
comparison between the period at which this samp
Juno was worshipped, and the present age, and be.
led to contemplate the wonderful benefits of Chris
tianity in diffusing the blessings of religion and
knowledge throughout so great a portion of the"
human race.
Friends are warned against a superstitious obser
vance of days appointed by government for fasts,
and against illuminating the windows of their
houses upon what are called rejoicing nighty.
As to the childish and petty custom of illumina-

280
tiorts, I see nb probable end that it can answer,
unless merely to gratify minds of the very lowest
rank in the scale of intellect and dignity; and to
encourage every kind of pernicious and contemp
tible dissipation among the populace, whose igno
rant and uncultivated understandings, dazzled by
the sight of so many burning tallow Candles, and
fired by the gorgeous display of lamps and lustres
prettily arranged, rush into every species of mad
dening intoxication, and celebrate, with heedless
delirium, the baleful orgies of nocturnal lust.
With regard to our mode of appointing and
conducting fast days, I shall only present to the
reader the words of the inspired seer, when he
says, " Behold, in the day of your fast, ye find
pleasure, and exact all your labours. Ye shall not
fast as ye do this day, to make your voice to be
heard on high. Is it such a fast that I have chosen?
a day for a man to afflict his soul ? * Is it to bow
down his head as a bulrush, and to spread sack
cloth and ashes under him ? Wilt thou call this a
fast and an acceptable day unto the Lord ? Is not
this the fast that I have chosen to loose the bands
of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to
let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every
yoke ? Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry,
and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to
thy house j when thou seest the naked, that thou
U

2Q0
cover him, and that thou hide not thyself from
thine own flesh? Then shall thy light break forth
as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth
speedily ; the glory of the Lord shall be thy re
ward." Sensible Friends Jof blameless conversation and
conduct, are advised to visit the families of the
members of the Society; and to admonish them, in
the peaceable spirit of truth, against tithes, church
rates, and priests' maintenance ; to be just in all
their dealings, plain in their habit and speech, to
visit the sick, and take the weighty testimony of
dying Friends.
This custom of family visits is admirably calcu
lated to promote the cause of morality, by erecting
as it were a perpetual tribunal in every house, to
which all dereliction from duty is amenable. In
education, and in the government of all bodies
politic, every obstacle should be opposed to devia
tion from the right path, and to the means of devi>.
ation. There should be a double restraint, that
of the parents and immediate governors of fami
lies, and that of the superintending influence of
grave and upright men appointed by the political
governors of the community. Alt passions sub
mit ultimately (with the great majority of man
kind) to their inability of gratification ; and the

291
disposition is best prepared by the discipline of ne
cessity, and the riiost vigilant perspicacity pf atten
tion on the part of the instructors. Human in
firmity is not to be trusted ; it never yet was trusted
with security ; therefore, laws, regulations, and
strong institutions, have the greatest power to en
force good manners and conduct when parents,
guardians, instructors, and visitors, co-operate fully
in the discharge of their respective functions. The
exemplary moral conduct, and decorum of beha
viour among the Friends, for so long a lapse of
years, clearly evince the propriety and efficacy of
their mode of visiting and superintending the pro
ceedings of the several families and households
included within the precincts of their Society i
Parents and guardians of children are exhorted1
to be particularly careful to prevent all those under
their charge from being entangled in any marriage
concern, before all things relating to their outward
estates be firmly agreed on both parts ; no young
and unmarried people must proceed a single step
towards matrimony, without first requesting the
consent of their parents or guardians : no parents
or guardians, after they have once suffered their
children to engage each other's affection, shall
break it off on any worldly account; neither shall
they consider wealth as the chief requisite, but ra
ther be desirous of joining their children in mar-
U 2

292
riagC with persons of religious inclinations, suitable1
dispositions, temper, sobriety of manners,, and dili
gence in business. Married persons are particu
larly exhorted to be earnest in fulfilling all the du
ties of the matrimonial union ; and those who
marry persons not belonging to the Society, shall be
disowned. These regulations with regard to marriage, are
full of wisdom and of sound policy; they are calcu
lated to prevent the innumerable evils arising from
those inconsiderate matches, where a couple is
joined in haste, and left to repent at leisure ; to
erect human happiness on its only firm and du
rable basis, domestic comfort, order, and harmony.
Their disowning those who marry out of the pale
of their church, is defensible on every ground of
reason and of policy. For between every consti
tuted Society and each of its individual members,
there exists a contract, that while the one obeys
the ordinances and regulations of the Society, the
other shall impart to him all the privileges and
immunities attached to that Society; the moment
that either party breaks his contract, the whole
compact is dissolved, the mutual relation between
each other no longer exists ; therefore, if any mem
ber of a community wilfully act in contradiction
to an established law of that community, he, in
fact, dismisses himself from the society, by having

2^3
annihilated the engagement originally subsisting
between him and it. Consequently, if a Friend
chooses to marry a person who is not a Friend,
although he knows it to be an established ordi
nance among Friends, that such an act forfeits all
the privileges of membership, he, in good truth,
withdraws himself from the Society, and volunta
rily abandons that which he might have retained
by obeying those regulations which he bad impli
edly stipulated to observe.
Add to this, that very much of misery inevitably
accrues from such incongruous marriages. Either
the parties concerned are in earnest about their re
ligious opinions, or they are not ; if they are not,
it matters but little when or whom they marry-
for they will never be able to find peace and com
fort on earth in any situation of life whatever. If
they are in earnest, each must think their own
opinions best, or otherwise they would, as persons
possessed of common integrity, give them up, and
embrace those tenets which they were convinced
were the best; consequently each must be conti
nually endeavouring to gaip the other oyer to his
or her side of the question, whence endless disputes
and altercations would arise, entirely subversive of
domestic happiness. And what is tp become of
the children ? Each parent would be desirous of
{raining the little babes in the best path, and that

294
path would be their own individual opinion ; henop
another source of contention and strife to embitter
and poison the cup of existence, to cause each
other to drain the bowl of misery even to the
very dregs.
All these most serious and important considera
tions should induce a man to pause and ponder
well, ere he ventures upon so hazardous, so despe
rate an undertaking, as that of linking himself for
life with a person professing a different form of
religious doctrine from that which he adopts; for
such an undertaking is directly calculated to sow
the seeds of discord in his house, to plant his pil
low with thorns, to make his days days of anxiety
and wretchedness, and to place a boundless and
an unfathomable gulph between him and felicity.
I would here offer a word or two upon early
attachments, without the means of procuring an
immediate and speedy union, Which are by some
deemed productive of good, but in which I see
nothing but misery and evil. Let the best of all
possible events happen, namely, that the loving
pair shall at length be united in all the ardour of
affection; and even in this case an incalculable
quantity of wretchedness must have been endured
by both parties, owing to their long separation
from that object, which was dearer in the eyes p,f

295
each other than all the world besides. But. if
(which is most likely to happen) the man is thrown
into situations, where all the powers of his mind
are continually called into action, and strengthen-,
ed; and he, after a while, finds that the female
whom he once loved has not kept pace, with him
in the improvement, and elevation of those facul
ties, which alone can aid and second all his endea
vours towards augmenting the cirqle of his power
of doing active good, what is to become of him
then ? He is bound in honour to fulfil his engage
ment ; but honour is not happiness; pur affection
must always, inevitably and necessarily, be exactly
proportioned to the quantity of virtue and intellect
embodied in a human form; and if we cannot find
in a woman a mind sufficiently powerful to bound
forward on level ground with us in our pursuit
after power and influence, in order more widely to
diffuse happiness and virtue amongst the human
race, whatever .cold satisfaction we may find in
obeying the dictates of an imperious duty, we shall
most assuredly never experience that delight, that
agony of bliss, which swells the glowing heart,
and chains the soul in speechless pleasure, and
darts rapture keen shivering through the thrilling
nerves, when we meet, and fold in the extatic em
brace of affection our bosom's darling treasure.
J am, therefore, decidedly of opinion, that all
U*

296
those who wish to consult their own peace and
happiness, should never think of forming any
tender attachment till they are enabled to com
plete the matrimonial union whenever they choose,
lest in the pangs of anguish they deplore a choice
made in their early days, which their riper judg
ment, and more enlarged understanding, convinces
them will never be productive to them of greater
bli§S than mere tranquillity, death's pale eyed sister.
Servants are exhorted by the Friends to behave
themselves with all due subjection, humility, plain
ness, honesty, and industry; to abstain from all
appearance of pride, idleness, and vain conversa-,
tion; to attend first-day and week-day meetings,
and always to live in the fear of God, and accord
ing to the pure precepts of revelation.
Masters and mistresses are earnestly requested
to treat tenderly, and to teach and instruct those
whom Providence hath placed under their care,
bringing them up in the fear of the Lord, and in
all sobriety, moderation, arid plainness of speech,
apparel, and deportment, which become devout
and sincere christians.
No one can for a moment doubt that families,
and households, regulated by these blessed dircc-
tioi s, will ever be the surest supports of true ieli-

297
gion, and the firmest bulwarks, of all moral go
vernment, of all social order.
All mourning habits, and external parade and
show about the interment of the dead, are forbid*
den by the Friends.
i.
I see no one reason to object to this salutary re
gulation, nor cpuld I ever perceive the utility or
the benefit of that bitter mockery of the pompous
bier, which at every corner of our streets compels
the contemplative mind to draw a comparison be
tween the pure, simple principles of Christianity,
and the ostentatious display of such ineffectual
superfluity of magnificence, by no means favour
able to the latter,
, It is agreed by the Friends, that a collection
shall be occasionally made in the several counties
and places, for the purpose of defraying the ex-
pences of the Society, as printing and distributing
books for the service of truth, the passage of mi
nistering Friendsi, who are called into the service
of the Lord beyond sea, the salary of a clerk,
house-rent for keeping records, 8cc. ojc.
This isa judicious mode of equitably laying the
burden of expenditure necessary to promote the
yievys of the Society on the shoulders of the whole

298
community, according to their different degrees
of strength. ./,-
The Fpiends are earnestly exhorted to preserve
plainness and truth in language, habit, deport
ment, and behaviour; to let their adorning be that
of a meek and quiet spirit, professing godliness,
with good works; not the outward adorning of
plaiting the hair, and of wearing* of gold, or of
putting on of apparel.
Surely stich judicious instructions as these can
stand in need of no praise which I have power to
bestow. The Friends consider the poor, both parents and
children, as of their own family, and, therefore,
not to be turned off to any others for support or
education ; not to be sent to the parish for relief,
but to have all their necessary wants supplied by
the Society. Where Friends are in indigent cir
cumstances, the monthly and quarterly meetings
are exhorted to assist them, and provide their chil
dren with education, instruction, and necessary
learning, with proper and useful employments, so
that all the children of the Society, both rich and
poor, may not grow .up in idleness and vice, but,
by being early trained to virtuous and industrious
habits, they may become salient, living springs of

299
comfort to their parents and friends, the ornament
of the christian church, instrumental in promoting
the glory of God, and of advancing the temporal
and eternal welfare of all succeeding generations.
The monthly meetings are particularly request- ,
ed to provide the families of poor Friends with
Bibles and Friends' books, particularly such as are
adapted to the instruction and edification of their
children. In consequence of these wise and benevolent
regulations, the poor among the Society of Friends
may be holden up as examples most worthy of
imitation by the lower orders of people in every
other portion of the community, for their industry,
sobriety, cleanliness, honesty, civility, decency of
conduct, purity of morals, and steady attention to
the duties of religion. Among the indigent classes
of the Society of Friends, the eye will' not be offend
ed, nor the ear shocked, nor the heart sickened
by scenes of ridt .and dissipation, of drunkenness,
and intemperance, with all their concomitant de
formities of cursing and swearing, and blasphem
ing the name and the majesty of the living God,
And in addition to supporting their own poor,
and training and preserving them in the habits of
every useful virtue, the Friends also contribute

300
their sl>.ire towards bearing the burden of main
taining that portion of the English people which
Jeans for aid upon parochial relief, by paying their
exapt quota of the poors-rates.
The poor-laws of England have now for more
than two hundred years been proclaiming, in the
loudest and most intelligible language, their own
absurdity, and the mistaken principles of policy
on which they were founded. I pass over the va
rious acts of parliament relating to this subject
made in the times of Henry theSeventh, Henry the
Eighth, Edward thp Sixth, and Philip arid. Mary,
and shall only notice that made in the reign of
Elizabeth; the 43,d Eliz. c. 2. s. 1. ordains, that
the overseers of each parish shall find materials and
work for the children of all those whp cannot
maintain tbeir own offspring; and also for all per-,
sons, married or unmarried, having no money lo
maintain them, and using no ordinary pr daily
trade by which to get their living ; and also to find
food and raiment for all the impotent poor, wfyq
cannot flop1 it for themselves, £cc. gcc.
But surely tbisstatute cannot effept impossibi
lities ; no act of parliament can work a miracle,
Ii is now well known, from the observation and
the recorded experience of all ages, that the prm?
ciple pf population outruns the means pf existence j

801
that the human animal has a power of multiplying
his species far surpassing in rapidity and force the
capabilities of the earth in producing food; that
population increases in a geometrical, while the
means of subsistence increase only in an arithme
tical ratio, as is abundantly and most satisfactorily
proved by Malthus, in his invaluable Essay on
Population. It is also manifest, that the mass of
population in any given country must always be
measured and limited by the quantity of food ex
isting in that country; for where there are no
means of existence, life must be extinguished.
And yet the statute of Elizabeth requires, that
work, and materials, and food (as if the overseers
could create work and materials where there was
no effectual demand for them, or manufacture
food when it did not exist in the kingdom) should
be provided for all the poor that want these things.
What is this but holding up a high bounty for a
greater population than the country can actually
maintain ; whence the consequent increase of the
bills of mortality, by penury, disease, and all the
complicated miseries of famine? The English poor
are permitted to be so wretchedly ignorant, as not
to be aware of this simple and eternal truth, that
every individual who cannot maintain a wife and
family has no business with them, has no right to
entail them as additional incumbrances on the
community; whence, without the least exercise of

864
reflection and calculation, they proceed to augtrieni
the mass of population to an extent far beyond that
which the country can maintain, far beyond the
power of the land to produce the means of sub
sistence, because the law has told them, that let
them produce what number of unnecessary and
superfluous children they please, the parish is com
pelled and bounden to provide them with food and
covering. We have only to cast our eyes around us, and
we shall immediately see, in the wretched, hope
less condition of the poor, the pernicious and fatal
consequences of our system of poor-laws, whose
gradual and judicious abolition is perhaps a mea
sure essentially necessary to the preservation and
maintenance of the British empire.
Many have been the attempts made to- alleviate
the miseries of the poor of England, by benevo
lent and good men, who have seen and deplored
the horrible effects of the poor-laws ; among
which, none holds so distinguished and deservedly
conspicuous a place as the society, for bettering the
condition of the poor, into whose views and aims,
as I collect them from Mr. Bernard's preface to
t-he Reports of the Society, I shall beg leave to
enter at length; premising, however, that no exer
tion of individual charity, although aided by abi-

303
lity, or seconded by wealth, can produce any per
manent alteration for the better in the state of the
British poor, without the abolition of the poor-laws,
and a national system of moral and religious in
struction and education for all the people in this
kingdom. To all those who feel, and think, and reason,
many words cannot be necessary to prove that the
interests of the poor are intimately interwoven with
those of the other classes of civilized society ; that
they are the sinews and life's-blood, which support
and nourish the community ; and, in consequence,
that the moral and physical health of a nation must
always be directly proportioned to the ill or well
being of the great mass of the people. Nor can
any employment of the human mind be so truly
honourable and dignified, as that which proposes
for its aim and end the amelioration of the con
dition of countless thousands of the human race.
It is incumbent, therefore, on every one who
possesses ability, leisure, and wealth, to stand for
ward in endeavouring to promote both the men
tal and bodily improvement of the poor, that the
conjoined exertions of the philosopher, the states
man, and the affluent individual, may be all united
together in attempting to reduce the means of con
ferring happiness on the indigent to a practicable

304
system of sure and steady science. That this hai
never yet been done may be easily ascertained by
any one who will glance his eye upon the present
condition of the poor in England, which is full of
barren sorrow and of unrelieved misery, in spite of
all the visionary schemes of well-meaning but mis*
takei) projectors, who have offered their dream of
speculation to the public, as the result of wisdom
and the offspring of experience.
And how is this desirable end to be obtained ?
Even by kindness and mercy. Let us lead the
poor to the temple of happiness through the gates
of industry and independence ; for, by no other
avenues can this sacred edifice be approached.
Let us never forget, that we must encourage, by
attentive and affectionate tenderness, that univer
sal principle of human exertion^ the desire of bet
tering its condition, to rouze itself up to its fullest
and most ample exertipn. Our duty. to the poor
is a personal service, enjoined by the highest au
thority, and cannot be commuted ; it is a work in
which no man has a right to be idle. The words
of Wilberforce must most seriously impress all
those who have hearts to feel, when he says,
" Where is it that in such a world as this, health,
and leisure, and affluence, may not find some ig
norance to instruct, some want to supply, some
misery to alleviate ? Shall ambition and avarice

305
never sleep? Shall they never want objects on
which to fasten? Shall they be so observant to dis
cover, so acute to discern, so eager, so patient to
pursue, and shall the benevolence of christians
Want employment?" "
It is believed, or at least asserted by some people,
that the poor are an ungrateful Set of beings, who
dp not choose to be assisted, and who reject, with
jealous asperity, all offers of information. But,
before we hastily consign over so great a portion
of the human race to the foul reproach of ingrati
tude, it behoves us to inquire what measures have
been employed to convince the poor of the pro-
priety of the means ostensibly used for their'adyan-
tage. What human being would ' willirfgly:'sub-
mit to become the subject of another's specula
tion, unless he is first made to understand the mo
tive and end of that speculation ? Let patience-
and kindness be shewn iri instructing the poor, in
teaching them their true interest, and there can
be no doubt but they will readily and gratefully
accede to any proposal which shall tend to pro-,
mote their comfort and happiness.
Only consider that, from want of opportunity,
'from defective education, and from constant and
"unremitted bodily labour, the minds of the poor
cannot possibly put ideas together very clearly and

306
rapidly, and, therefore, require to have time and
attention bestowed upon them, in order" to be
taught that any change which their affluent neigh
bours might wish to make in their system of ceco
nomy and habits of life, is proposed only for their
own benefit, and not from any whim or caprice, or
desire of oppression on the part of the rich.
The idleness of the poor is also by some object
ed as a sufficient obstacle to prevent the success
of any efforts made by others towards bettering
their condition. But look at yonder labouring
peasant, and, if you have any humanity, you will
rather wish to restrain his exertions, lest they prove
fatal to his health and strength, than seek to sti
mulate them to greater efforts. And what, think
yd'u, is the incitement which prompts him to such
energy of toil ? No other than task- work, where
the earnings are proportioned to the quantity of
work performed in a given time. Apply the pro
per stimulus of judicious encouragement to the
poor, and we shall hear no more of their idleness.
But it seems the poor are inclined to drunken
ness. And how can it be otherwise, when, from
their total ignorance, and from never having been
taught to exercise their minds, they are unable to
.pass away their little intervals of rest from labour,
without having recourse to some external stimulus?

307
The human animal cannot possibly endure the mi
sery of torpescent inactivity ; it must be roused
by some incitement ; and if it cannot find that in
citement by looking inward upon its own intellec
tual stores, it must seek for it in some external
and adventitious means. And where can a readier
and more successful stimulus than diffusible liquor
be found ? Do we not see that the wealthy, who
are ignorant and uninformed, seek to drown the
agony of their own sterility of employment in fre
quent draughts of intoxication ?
And is not habitual drunkenness among the poor
too often the effect Of a frame debilitated and worn
down to the very dregs of vitality by unremitted
labour, and a scanty, a precarious supply of food ;
of a mind broken by sorrow, by anguish, and de
spair, on account of the hopeless situation of them
selves, their wives, and little ones ? If so, is it not
our duty to endeavour, by affording them a better
and a more ample provision, to renovate their ex
hausted strength, and recruit their wearied bodies,
and, by kindness, and the voice of affection and of
mercy, to bind up their broken hearts, to sooth
their wounded and lacerated minds, to convert
listless and hopeless indolence into active and pro
ductive energy, and to turn the mansions of sor
row and of darkness into the habitations of joy and
of gladness ? Letihe rays of patronage be directed
X2

308
.from the palace to the cottage, and the prince WrlT
feel the beams of felicity reflected back upon hina
from the peasant with increased vigour and renew
ed strength.
Pause fora moment, and reflect upon a few of
the inestimable blessings which must inevitably
accrue to society from union, and perseverance iri
a proper system of conduct, with regard to the
poor, in enabling them to Icarri the indispensable
necessity of practising the great duty of moral re
straint, in order to acquire aught of comfort here,
or hope of bliss hereafter. Such a mode; of con
duct would produce a diminution of our present
parochial burden of expense, and lead either to a
total abolition, or, at least, to a thorough revision
,-and amendment of the poor laws.
. - • . (..) ,-.
Let us suppose that the land proprietor can be
awakened to his own true interest, and.fpllpw the
example of the earl of Winehelsea, of the bishop
of Durham, of Rowland, Burdgn,, and some other
benevolent owners of estates, Who have hplden up
the best of all encouragements to industry and, ex
ertion, by supplying those of their labourers,- who
have been remarkable for sobriety, diligence, and
honesty, with a portion of garden-ground, and with
land sufficient to maintain a pig or a cow, or both ;
who have enabled their peasants to build thern-

309
selves neat and comfortable cottages, instead of
those wretched and deplorable hovels, which are
too often merely the receptacles of squalid misery,
of famine, and of disease. Let us imagine that
the fire-places of cottages were improved, and their
means of procuring fuel facilitated ; that the in
ducement, or rather, the necessity, of committing
depredations on woods and coppices,, and 'hedges
of their neighbours, might no longer exist; that
parish- mills, village-shops, and- all other means of
supplying the poor with: an ^abundance of the ne
cessaries of life at a cheaper rate, were gradually
introduced where they might be deemed useful
and proper ; that the condition of common beg
gars and mendicants of every description was in
quired into ; that the idle and iniquitous were
compelled to work, and the friendless, forsaken,
and forlorn, were either relieved at home, or re
ceived into a decent and comfortable asylum; that
the situation of poor children, who are turned over
in lots and parcels as apprentices to manufactories,
and there left unprotected and forgotten, to endure
all the hardships and miseries which the demon of
unrelenting avarice, and the hard unkindness of
coldly-calculating traffic, can inflict upon helpless
and much-suffering infancy, Was placed under a
system of inspection : let us imagine that friendly
societies were the subjects of voluntary, individual,
and colleptive aid and encouragement ip. every
X3

31D
part of the kingdom ; that parish workhouses were
amended and regulated, and tenanted by the only
persons who ought to reside in them, namely,
those, whose distressed and isolated condition, ,
without relatives and without friends, precluded
them from doing better out of such places, but
not the idle, the vicious, the profligate, the aban
doned, who generally render these spots the abodes
of every thing that degrades and debases human
nature, converting what ought to be a charitable
asylum for deserving indigence into a den of
thieves, a nest of miscreants, who live in the con
tinued dereliction from every moral and religious
duty ; and, lastly, that parish relief were continu
ally and systematically directed to the encourage
ment of industry, of ceconomy, and of virtue, and
thus rendering the poor man happy in his own
cottage, instead of being made the instrument of
dragging him and the wife of his bosom, and their
little babes, to a workhouse, thereby palsying all
his energies of body and of mind, and entailing
misery and destitution, beyond all power of count,
on him and on all that belongs to him ; for in a
parish workhouse <c Hope never comes
That comes to, all."
Jmagine all this, or even a part of this, effected,
and what benevolent heart does not bound at the

314
contemplation of such a stupendous aggregate pf
individual and collective happiness and virtue,
which such measures must produce throughout
all the departments of society, from the monarch-
who sitteth on his throne to, the infant that crawls
upon the threshold of the cottage ! ! !
To all those who have not yet dried up every
drop of the milk of human kindness, who have not
exhausted all the springs of charity, some account
of the reasons why the society for bettering the
condition of the poor was instituted, cannot but
be productive of pleasure. The king is the pa
tron of the society, the indefatigable and benevo
lent bishop of Durham is the president, the vice-
presidents are the duke of Somerset, the earl of
Egremont, Thomas Bernard, esq. and the Rev.
Dr. Glasse^ Among the members of the general
committee, we find the names of count Rumford,
Wilberforce, Morton Pitt, and some other per
sons,, who are an honour to the human race, by
their constant and unremitted exertions in the
cause of benevolence and goodness.
The first motive which stimulated the conduc
tors of this inestimable charity to enter upon their
heavenly undertaking, was the rapidly augmenting
progress of the poors-rates. Nearly three millions
of money annually expended in parochial relief; and
X4

3J2
a still greater sum in charities and benefactions,-.
both public and private, for a lorig period of time,
have added little or nothing to the permanent ame
lioration of the lot of the poor ; nay, have rather
been productive of detriment to it, by paralysing
all their exertions, by cutting them down to the
torpescence of slavery, and by extinguishing every
ray of hope, so that not even; a wish has been left
tp gild the gloom of their situation. How is the
heart to be supplied with nutrition, when all the,
streams of circulatipn.aredried up ? Where can be .
the 'vigour and stability of that country, which has
cut asunder all the sinews of its peasantry, has
drained the life's-blood from all its people ?
' Some persons have considered the increase of
our poor's- rate as the necessary consequence of our
rapidly augmenting national prosperity : but this
seems to be an erroneous conclusion. Do we
deem the flowret's bud in a state of sanity and
health, when the canker-worm is gnawing at its,
heart's; core ? What constitutes a nation's prospe
rity ? Not the accumulation of individual wealth,
and the decay of man ; not the glittering of the
spires of palaces, and the pverthrow of the peasant's
cottage. In the awful Hour of foreign invasion, in
the dread moment of hostile incursion, who are to,
rally round thp throne of Britain, and tp prevent
its whole^bfic from tottering to its foundation^

313
and crumbling into, dust ? Not those who flutter
with painted plumage, and with gaudy wings,
round the glittering glare of a birth-day ball ; but
the steady and irresistible valour of a race of rus-:
tics, whose nerves are strung by early toil, whose
minds are elevated into independence by the pos-
. session of property, and whose affections are attach
ed to their country by the indissoluble ties which
the blessings of a mild and an equitable govern
ment bind round the human heart. ,
All those who, love and venerate our unrivalled
constitution, and in its continuance and preserva
tion look for the protection of all that is near and
dear to their hearts, all that renders existence worth
desiring, cannot but feel the most serious, and im
pressive alarm-at the present ignorant and wretched
state of the English poor ; for how can they be able
to appreciate the blessings of social order, and the
regular gradations of civilized life, when they, for
the most part, know not even the first simple prin
ciples of religion, the primary elements of moral
duty ? What incitement shall prompt an English
peasant to shed his blood in the defence of that
country which gave him birth ? Property he has
none; for j that great and universal, stimulus to
exertion, without which life is a(burden, and exist
ence a curse, has. been long since swallowed up by
th,e parish. — Will be fight for his wife and chil-

314
dren ? — Alas I they are not permitted to be a bless
ing tp him ; they are not allowed a possibility of
twining themselves round the affections of his soul ;
for he is continually compelled to feel that they
cry unto him for bread, and he has it not to give
them. Can children be objects of pleasure to a
man, whose whole labour and toil cannot preserve
them and himself from the pangs of penury, and
the horrors of want ? How can the seeds of paren
tal endearment be sown, when the soil is rendered
barren and unproductive by the chill winds of hun
ger, and the desolating blasts of famine ?
Add to this, that the peasant's offspring are, not
seldom, torn from his embrace, and entombed in
the very vault and charnel-house of all virtue and
affection, the parish workhouse. When the father
no longer sees the beaming smiles, nor feels the
little strong embrace, nor hears the artless prattle
of his babes, but knows that they are consigned to
beings who have no interest in their weltare, no
regard for their happiness, how can he wish to pro
long the period of their existence, when they live
only to wring his bosom, and to agonize his soul?
But when parental affection is torn up by the
roots, what inducement is left that shall prompt a
man to die in defence of the soil on which he was
borrf? When the best, the finest, and the noblest

315
feelings of the heart are extinguished, no virtue, no
courage, nothing that exalts and lifts man up in
the scale of dignity and of honour, remains. Money
may buy an army of mercenary hirelings, and pur
chase a display of military pomp ; but not all the
wealth of Ormus or of Ind can procure the firm
and undaunted valour which animates the hearts of
a people who are alive to all the great and precious
charities of father, son, and brother.
It is too much the custom, with ardent and im
petuous minds, to impute blame to the government
on account of those eviis which the government
cannot prevent. If the British poor (as they most
assuredly do) populate too fast for the food which
the country can possibly be made to produce, the
government cannot prevent the inevitable conse
quences of penury, disease, and famine, which al
ways follow in the rear of an excessive population,
in order to cut it down to the level of the means
of existence; for the government has in it no in
herent power of working miracles ; it cannot create
food ; neither can it make that quantity of subsist
ence maintain four, which will only support the
life of two persons.
But every government ought to be cautious how
it holds up a bounty for the encouragement of an
#xcessive population ; since such a proceeding

316
not only entails' all the horrors of want and of slow-
wasting, but premature death by famine, on num
berless innocent and unoffending human beings.
Such a bounty, such a premium for an excess of
population, above the means of existence, is bolden
up by the English' poor-laws ; and, indeed, our le
gislature has long since perceived the impolicy of
this cruel and debasing system, by feeling an alarm
ingly increasing burden of expence pressing upon.
the landed property of the nation ; and, as it should
seem, forgetting that encouragement and kindness
are the only effectual and permanent incentives to
human exertion, have made laws to compel indus-.
try and ceconomy!!! and workhouses have been*
erected and farmed to the highest bidder, in order
to terrify the poor from wanting relief. Great Godi
of all goodness and mercy ! ! — The legislature of
England has authorized parishes , to commit the
maintenance of the sinews and strength- of our
country to an interested, audacious speculator, a
hardened jobber in human misery, whpse business
it is to render the condition of the inmates of a
workhouse as wretched and forlorn as possible, that
the poor may prefer perishing in their 'own houses,
by the silent and wasting progress of hunger, of
Cold, of nakedness, of disease, and of anguish, to
seeking an abode where they must endure all the
agonies which callous cruelty can inflict, smd de-.
pendant slavery can suffer. v

317
• But Rumford, who appears like a gtfardian angel
sent down by the Most High, to watch over and to
promote the interests of humanity, has taught us,
by his invaluable precepts, and still more by his in
estimable example, that, in every instance in which
a poor family is driven by distress and depression
©f circumstances to pass over the threshold of a
parish workhouse, an incumbrance has been en
tailed on the funds of the parish never to be re
deemed, even in part, but by an entire change of
systerii, namely, by encouraging that industry and
prudence which no act of parliament can compel ;
.and by assisting them with increased means and
advantages of life, calculated to enable them to
support themselves and their farriilies in comfort
and in plenty in their own cottages, without being
compelled to have recourse to parochial relief;
and, above all, by blessing them With an early re
ligious and moral education, that they may be en
abled to consult their own real interest, and, in
consequence, the well-being of the community, by
habits of industry, of self-denial, and of virtue.
I would here say a few words upon a subject that
appears by some people to have been widely mis
understood. In times of scarcity the farmers are
branded with every mark of infamy and abuse;
tbe poor are taught to look, upon them as monsters,
divested of all humanity ; the country gentlemen

318
are full of indignation against their tenants for
their supposed cruelty and extortion ; and the
clergy (who certainly ought to know better) make
their pulpits resound with outcries and railing ac
cusations against the peculation and plunder of a
set of men, who, by steadily pursuing their own in
terest, always contribute to the safety of the country
in seasons of dearth.
It is the universal principle of all traffic and
barter to buy at as cheap, and to sell at as dear a
rate as can possibly conduce to the interest of the
vender and the vendee. The farmer, in common
with every other trader, is actuated by this principle
prompting him to consult his own interest. He,
as might be reasonably expected, is desirous of
getting as high a price for his corn as he can pro
cure. In times of plenty he is obliged to sell it at
a low rate, because the market being abundantly
supplied, the competition among the sellers to un
dersell each other, is greater than the competition
of the buyers to outbid each other. In times of
artificial scarcity (if such times can ever occur) the
farmer cannot long keep the price of corn up at a
high rate, because the harvest must soon come
round, or some other circumstance will happen to
break the spell, and to dissipate the illusion ; when
the grain will fall so rapidly in price, as to fully
counterbalance any gai.ri which might have accrued

319
by the temporary forcing the corn up beyondits
due rate of value; so that the interest of the farmer
is not materially advanced by such a mode of-co%
duct ; whence we may infer, that he will scarcely
adopt a measure productive of no benefit to him
self, but certain of entailing the odium of the pub
lic upon him.,
But, in times of actual scarcity, the interest of
the farmer and that of the country are inseparably
linked together. Grant that there is corn enough
in the kingdom to feed the people for two months,
but that four months must elapse before the har
vest, or any other mode of supply, shall arrive ; the
farmer finds that the quantity of grain is not equal
to the demand ; that buyers are crowding in upon
him in all directions ; he, therefore, raises the price
of his corn (we will say) to double its former rate ;
in consequence of which he compels his customers
to consume but half their usual quantity of corn,
and to substitute in its stead, potatoes, rice, and
other vegetables, by which means the corn is made
to last through (with only a little temporary incon
venience to the inhabitants) the whole four months;
whereas, if the farmer had, through any mistaken
notions of humanity, or any other erroneous calcu
lations upon life, continued to sell his corn at the
accustomed price, and the people in consequence
had continued to consume their usual quantity of

320
Com, it would have been all used up by the efrd
of the second month, and the country toust have
suffered all the complicated horrors of famine and
death, in every variety of wretchedness, for the
remaining two months. .•-"-¦•,•• ' »
But to return. Hear a few of the evil conse
quences which the English poor-laws have entailed
Upon the great mass of the people. In most parts
of the kingdom the poor have been reduced, as
the only means of preventing the departure of the
soul from the body, to the purchase of their daily
bread, by the daily stipend of their labour. ' And
this has gradually deprived them of forecast, has
sunk them down from the proper rank of human
beings ; for the only true definition of man is this
— an animal that looks before and after. What
can rouse the human mind to the effort 6f look
ing forward into futurity, when that futurity is
"not gilded by the rays of hope, nor illumined by
the beams of expectation, but shrouded in the
dunnest pall of hopeless misery, and of barren
sorrow ? '
'¦ This hourly linking of the chain Of existence on
the anvil of hourly exertion, has caused the pea
santry to crawl on in a spiritless continuation of
daily and reluctant toil, until the iron hand of sick
ness, or misfortune, or age, or (what ought to be

32*
the blessed means of cheering man's pilgrimage
through the regions of mortality) an increase of
family, drives them en with resistless force into the
workhouse, that unrelenting murderer of gaiety
and hope, of the love of reflection, and the love
of life, there to remain the life pensioners of the
public ; and when they have drawn their last sigh,
and have heaVed their last throb, amidst all the
horrors of slavery, and all the bitterness of depen-
dance, leave their widows to become the nurses
and drudges of the house, and their children to
become the victims of all the inevitable evils which
must accrue from being trained up in idleness and
iniquity, among the dregs and outcasts of unprin
cipled licentiousness, and abandoned profligacy.
But to the English hereditary land-owner, this is
waste committed upon his estate the most destruc
tive and irreparable. It is not the pulling down an
unnecessary hovel, the premature repetition of a
crop of wheat-corn, or the ploughing up a slip of
pasture ground, the usual and trivial objects of
impeachment of waste, that is now the subject of
consideration; but it is the snapping asunder of the
heart-chords of society, the destruction of the very
source arid •fountain of all national wealth and
power, even the means of cultivating the land, the
conversion of the strength and energy of a people
Into weakness and debility, and the exchange of
Y

322
the only springs of abundance and prosperity fbif
the poisonous and pestilential streams of enormous
expence, andcontinually augmenting poverty.
It is the very essence of political wisdom to give,
if possible, ample scope and increase to the energy
of individuals, by affording to all the opportunity
and hope of advancement in life, if they will direct
their strenuous and honourable exertions towards
the attainment of this most desirable end. Where
character, conduct, industry, and attention, re
ceive their assured reward, candidates for excel
lence will not be wanting; and the example of a
few will be reflected in the virtues of the many. If
the child, in proportion to its diligence and good
behaviour, be better fed, better clothed, more
kindly treated, and have that pittance of reward,
which in its narrow scale of life constitutes wealth,
Jaid up in store, the number of virtuous and indus-r
trious children will be continually and rapidly augr
menting; for it is a well-known principle, which
prevails in all human transactions, that the abun
dance of any commodity is always directly as its
effectual demand ; let an effectual demand, there
fore, be made in this kingdom for virtue and,
happiness among the peasantry, and happiness
and virtue in that class of society will be forth*

323
If the young man finds, that by reserving out of
his wages a little fund of wealth to provide for the
increased demands of expenditure which marriage
always brings along with it, he can convert these
early savings into the means of increased produce
and comfort during life, and become the propri
etor of a cow, a garden, and his pwn cottage, he
will acquire early habits of prudence and cecono
my, which will enable him to practise sufficient
self-denial to prefer the more«distant, but more cer
tain benefits arising from well regulated and sober
habits, to all the- present gratifications that the
senses can receive from the most intimate ac
quaintance with alehouses, wakes, fairs, or any
other destroyers of the morals and principles of the
poor. If the cottager, who labours strenuously to
maintain, to rear, and to settle his family in the
world, is encouraged and assisted in his honest and
meritorious endeavours ; and in case of any un
toward and unforeseen interruption of his system
of ceconomy, receives such timely relief, as shall
rescue him from the jaws of a workhouse, and
preserve his mind from that most depressing and
degrading of all circumstances, the fear and. the
apprehension of becoming a life pensioner on the
funds of the parish, the successful frugality of a
(ew^ when it is, seen to lead directly and assuredly
Y2.

324
to honour, to plenty, and to happiness, will stimu
late the many to a conduct so replete with bene
ficial effects; and the prospective ken" of a sure
and a-steady march towards an improvement in all
the comforts and conveniences that life can give,
will awaken the energy of the poor in every part
of the kingdom. i... .
2< Many and extensive would be the benefits of
providing for the poor, a pleasurable and advanta*
geous employment for their leisure moments, and
affording them (where it can be done) the means
of productive husbandry at home, within their
own cottage and ground; of enabling them to ob
tain the necessaries of life in more abundance, and
at less expenditure of bodily toil; and of teaching
and encouraging them to rear their children in
habits of industry and virtue. What an incalcu
lable aggregate of good must accrue to the human
race, if such blessed measures of benevolence are
brought to produce any effect upon millions of
mankind, Let the benevolent mind lap itself in
elysium, while it reflects, with ever renovating de*
light, on the countless thousands of little hands
(hitherto a burden to society, and a Curse to them
selves, suffering all the miseries of idleness, of
filth, of want, of disease, and of wickedness) di
rected to productive labour, imparting happiness
to themselves, and infusing a new portion of life's

325
blood, health, and vigour, into the Whole frame of
the community. Let it reap the purest and most
Unalloyed pleasure from the contemplation of the
inestimable advantages arising from the great
mass of the people being rescued from the grasp
cf extortion and imposition which now grinds them
down to beggary, in the shape of hucksters, petty
shopkeepers, and all the tribe of obnoxious ver
min, which fill up the lowermost departments of
traffic, and being enabled fairly, honestly, and
easily to supply themselves with the necessaries
of life. Let it enjoy unutterable bliss in calculat
ing the stupendous amount of national strength
and happiness, which would inevitably be produc
ed, by permitting and encouraging every cottager
to cultivate and improve the slips of waste land
which remain in every part of the country, now
fertile in no utility or good.
It is the first end and aim of the society to search
for, and to disseminate useful and practical know
ledge with regard to the poor; to co'-operate in
every plan that tends to increase their ceconomy
and domestic comfort ; to hold up the industrious
arid thriving cottager as an example worthy of
imitation, and to promote his good habits, his in
dustry, his welfare, and his happiness; ever keep
ing it in mind, that the true design of charity is,
not to render the object of her attention helpless,
Ys

326
indolent, and without resource, but to rouze it tb
exertion, and the loftiness of independence; to in
crease the energy, the virtue, and the hopes of the
poor, as the only means of attaching them to their
country, by shewing them that the paths of mora
lity and religion, lead directly to the temple of
abundance and felicity j ...;'v\.
--"/ . " ¦ ' "I**' v'-.
And the purposes which the society has in view
to accomplish, can only be effected by encourage
ment, by kindness, and by affectionate attention ;
by directing arid giving room for the energetic dis*
play of that great master-spring of all mortal 'ac
tion, the desire (implanted in the human breast
by a wise and gracious Providenee) of bettering its
condition. It is customary with some people to complain
of the degenerate profligacy of the poor ; but it '
should be recollcetcd, that the poOr have to
struggle against almost every obstacle in the way
to virtue; as defective education, the pressure of
want, and I wish that I was not obliged to add, in
some instances, the contagion of a pernicious ex
ample set them by their more wealthy neighbours.
I am afraid, that the rich would find it difficult to be
more prudent, more industrious, and more virtu
ous, than are the poor, were they placed in the
same circumstances, and labouring under the same

327
disadvantages. The most advisable method ap
pears to be, for the affluent to afford the poor an
Opportunity of acquiring the necessaries and com
forts of life, arid the means Pf instruction ; whence
we shall very soon perceive a most satisfactory in
crease of happiness, of power; and of morality in
this kingdom.
In thb reports bf the society, the wealthy and
the benevolent will find Subjects of experiment,
methods of. procedure^ and accounts of expence.
In the various details, they will meet with some^
thing or other- to put in action every valuable prin
ciple of the human mind. Upon the proposed
Subjects of inquiry, some information has been al
ready collected, and immediate and beneficial ef
fects are now actually gbing forward both in this
kingdom and in Ireland. As to parish relief, the
fact is now thoroughly ascertained, that the best
and the most ceconomical application of the paro
chial funds, is that Which assists industry and good
management among the poor in their own cottages,
iri the care and conduct of their own families, and
iri placing out their children at an early age in a
Course of employment ; and that in those parishes
Where the peasant has been supplied with a good
cottage and garden, and the means of keeping his
cow, at a fair and moderate rent, the labourers are
the steadiest, and the most orderly men, the poor's-
Y4

3;28-
rate is greatly reduced, arid; the value of landed
,es'tates much improved.
The poor may be protected from imposition in
the purchase of the necessaries of life with- very.'
little cost : indeed more may be done for their real
benefit in this respect at a very trivial expence>
than by millions added to the poorVrate, or dis
persed according to the present system of pecu
niary charity. All this is performed by village
shops, village kitchens, soup-shops; parish mills,
friendly societies, or clubsi&c. &c¥ <
It cannot require many words to prove that the
miserable hovels of the English peasantry, are for
the most part destitute of every circumstance that
can afford comfort and happiness in life. They
are generally the abodes of filth, of famine, apd pf
anguish; their narrow and scanty dimensions al
low no opportunity for convenience or for deli
cacy; and their ragged roofs and ehinky walls, are
no defence against the pitiless pelting of the stormy
and all the rigours of a churlish' climate. Nor is
it more difficult to shew, that it is a d«ty which-
we owe to ourselves, to pur peasantry, and to the
welfare of pur country, that neatness and comfort
in the habitations of the cottagers;, by timely re
pairs, and by the very trivial expence of frequent-
white- wash! ngy should be permitted to produce?

329
their full effect in inducing habits of cleanliness,
of regularity, and of virtue, in the possessors.
Even if parish workhouses were well managed,
and guided by the dictates of tenderness and hu
manity, yet, while they continue to be the com-'
mon receptacle of all who apply for parochial aid,
much evil to individuals and to the community
must, inevitably, be produced. It cannot but hap
pen, that there will always be some idle and wick
ed, as well as sober and honest, persons, who
stand in need of relief from the parish ; and
what greater cruelty can be shewn than by hud
dling all these, good and bad, together promiscu
ously into the same workhouse ? I know not how
greater torment can be inflicted on those sober
and pious people, whom the very extremity of
helplessness and want has driven into the work
house, than to condemn thqm to live under the
same roof, to eat at the same table, and to be con-.
tinually present with those, whose conversation,
manners, and conduct, are replete with indecency,
impiety, profligacy, and irreligion. What a shock
ing school for the education of those poor, little*
lielpless children, whose parents cannot give them
bread, is such a place, where they must be in the
constant habit of hearing discourse, and of wit^
nessing actions, which go directly to implant ir*

330
the tender mind all the seeds of the most shameV
less vice, and the most abandoned iniquity ! ! 1
Surely the voice of humanity arid of justice fells
us, that none should be placed in the parish work*
house but the aged and infirm, who have no home,
and who could not do better out of it, who have,
no domestic connections^ and no means of suste
nance; and to them it should be made a decent"
and a well regulated asylum, where they might
end their few remaining days in peace, and close
their eyes amidst the consolations of religion, and *•'
the, kindness of affectionate attention. The pea
sant, who is disabled by sickness, or any other ac^
eident, should receive timely and sufficient relief
in his own cottage ; the idle, the profligate, and
the abandoned, should be subjected tojegal cor
rection ; and the poor children should be instruct
ed- and reared at a parish- school, under the direc
tion of the clergymen, and the principal inhabi
tants of the district/ oni1

If these measures were adopted, the aged and
infirm would have their path into eternity smoothed
and made easy, the community would be relieved
from an enormous burden of annual expence, the
cottager would be lifted up to virtue, to mdepen*-
dence, and to happiness, the idle and disorderly

331
mendicants would receive merited punishment*
and the fatherless ^nd motherless babes would bC
trained up by the hand of tenderness and indul-*
gence, in the habits of industry, of knowledge, and
of religion.
Let it be engraven on the tablets of every heart,
Whose Chords vibrate to the sweet emotions of be
nevolence and philanthropy, that the true applica
tion of charity can only be found in those mea
sures which encourage and promote habits of in
dustry, of prudence, of foresight, of cleanliness
and of virtue among the poor. This great truth
should always be kept in view; lest we imagine,
that We are charitable when we give money in
abundance, either to gratify personal whim or dis
tempered humour, to get rid of importunity, or to
be seen of men, or any other mode of indiscrimi
nate and undirected bounty, which in principle is
unjust, and injurious in effect, which profits not
the . donor, and debases and renders helpless the
receiver, paralysing all the energies of man, and
poisoning all the sources of public virtue and of
national prosperity. I hope that we all know who
has told Us, that we may give all our goods to feed
the poor, and our bodies to be burned, and yet
not possess one single beam of heaven-directed
charity.

132
It is our duty, it is our businesSj to enable Our
jess affluent brethren, by timely aid, affectionately
administered to them in the hour of need, to ad
vance themselves higher in the great scale of hap
piness, bf plenty, of independence, and of virtue ;
and I am persuaded, that it would not be easy for
human ingenuity, seconded by angelic goodness
and mercy, to devise means better calculated-to
produce this most desirable of all effects, than
those which have been adopted by the society for
bettering the condition of the poor,
The population of this country has increased
very much within the last century from our im->
proved state of agriculture, the increase pf our
manufactures, and the augmentation of our com*
merce. Every improvement in agriculture goes
directly to uphold and to increase national power
and national virtue. But, perhaps the other sources*
of increased population have not so immediately
tended to augment either the virtue or the happi
ness of the kingdom. The mere increase of popu
lation, unless it is also attended with a progressive
improvement in virtue, is not an object of desire
to any well constituted mind, or any properly or
ganised heart. Religion and morality are the only
foundations of national power and strength ; and,
therefore, every real lover of his country will ear*

333
nestly deprecate that increase of the human species,
the abuttals and boundaries of which are misery
and vice,
The immediate effect of many manufactures in
this kingdom is to prejudice the health and the
morals of the people, and requires the most stre
nuous exertions of active benevolence to correct
and to remedy. In many of these places every
incentive to vice and to immorality is applied ; and
every avenue to disease and to contagion is laid
open by negligence and by filth. Boys and girls
are huddled together in lots and parcels, by day
and by night, deprived of all education, instructed
neither in religion nor in morals ; so that even in
childhood, before the state of infancy be well pas
sed, every species of horrid and of disgusting de
bauchery is committed. From these pestilential
yaults and charnel-houses of all virtue and of all
proper knowledge, are continually steaming up
thieves and prostitutes of every description, to prey
upon and to plunder the community, and to weak
en the very sinews of all good government, and of
all social order. I wish not, invidiously, to point
out by name the several manufactories which thus
slaughter the morals and the principles of so many
thousands of human beings: all who have paid
any attention to the general conduct of these

334
places, know, that what I now say is true, andthat
the evil calls aloud. for redress.'
And from what quarter can redress be so pro
perly looked for, as from the government of the
country? The masters and the proprietors in gene
ral (there are some proud and dignified exceptions
to this dark rule) of these places have been long
enough suffered to show, that the. health and the
inorals of their labourers are not, with them, even
secondary and subordinate considerations. I am
as far as any man from wishing that any infringe
ments should be made on the. property of indivi
duals ; but, surely, some attention op the part of
the legislature is also due to those wretched be
ings, who are regularly trained to disease and vice.
Let manufacturers gain profits as large and as rapid
as they please, so that their' wealth be not amassed
at the expense of the health and of the morals of
the poor ; for upon the virtue and upon the in
dustry of the poor depend the very safety and ex-.
jstence of the nation.
- :V-'
Let the government extend the arm of paternal
aid to the many myriads of wretched beings who
have hitherto been, and are now, the victims of
disease and of vice, daily and hourly immolated
pn the bfood-stained altar of rapacity and of aya*

335
rice, lest the cry of their misery and their wicked
ness ascend unto heaven, and the Lord of hosts
arise to take vengeance upon their oppressors!!!
Let habits of cleanliness and of decency be estab*
lished and enforced ; let the children be instructed
in their moral and religious duties ; let the infa
mous and inhuman custom of night-work be ut
terly abolished ; let the males be separate and kept
distinctly apart from the females, at all times, dur-.
ing the hours both of meals and of employment ;
let magistrates and men of influence and of respec
tability, be appointed to see that all these things
are regularly and exactly fulfilled, and that all the
- apartments are properly white-washed and venti-*
iated. Let these regulations, or some such as these,
whatever shall seem meetto^the wisdom of those
in authority, be established and carried into exe
cution by the paramount power of the governmental
sceptre, and our manufactories will no longer exist
for the baneful and destructive purpose of enrich
ing a few individuals at the expense of entailing
the unutterable and endless miseries of disease and
pf iniquity upon numberless thousands of the Brir
tish people.
But the evil dpes not rest here. Perhaps the
greatest curse whjcb mistaken policy ever entailed

330
upon a kingdom, and the most directly calculated
to accelerate the date of its destruction, exists in
the English poor-laws'. They promise that un
qualified support, that unrestricted maintenance
to the cottager's family which they cannot possi
bly supply, thereby inducing the young labourer
to marry before he has made any provision for the
married state ; and, in consequence, extinguishing
all prospective prudence and all consideration fo*
the future.
But when these two great moving springs of
human action are broken, when these great in
citements tp honourable exertion are destroyed,
where is virtue and independence to be forind ?
The moment that a man can submit to the degra- ,
dation of even thinking, without horror, of seeing
himself and family become pensioners and beggars,
subsisting on the bounty of a parish overseer, frbfn
that moment he writes his name in the book of
slavery, and becomes a drone upon society, a bur
den to others, and a curse to himself. No one in
his senses, surely, can imagine, that a population,
increased by the frequent spawning of beggarly
servility, adds aught to national prosperity or
power. While the present system exists, no determinate
boundary can be set to the alarming and terrifi*

337
increase of the poor's-rate. Twenty shillings in
the pound may be levied throughout the kingdom
without even attaining its own miserable and re
prehensible object, that of providing a comfortless
and, hopeless maintenance for a forlorn and de*
pressed body of poor, who have swelled the mass
of population beyond the fair and proportionate
limits of subsistence which the country is able to
produce, much less of accomplishing that most
desirable of all purposes, the lifting up of the great
mass of the people to plenty, to virtue, to inde
pendence, and to happiness.
The condition of the poor is also much hurt by
the injudicious plan on which most of our public
charitable establishments are conducted. The
great and irrecoverable expense of provisions in
workhouses, and in all eleemosynary foundations,
and the oppressive example of waste and extrava
gance which they afford, are extremely detrimental
to the good habits and the well-being of the poor
of this country. In all these places the diet should
not be better than that which the cottager can
earn by his daily labour. Why hold up a pre
mium to idleness and profligacy; why endeavour
to damp all the ardour and energy, to chill the
noble glow of independence which plays around
and warms the heart of every honest and upright
Z

3.38
human being ? All who are able should be obliged
to work,:' and be allowed an increase of advantages
in proportion to their improvement in exertipn,
in order that these workhouses may no longer re
main- nests of idleness and iniquity, but be set
apart as edifices where distress may find relief and
employment, and where those who are willing to
submit to regulation may be occupied, and receive
a fair and a just compensation for their labour and
their toil.
Workhouses not only contribute to raise, by
actual waste, the price of provisions, or, in other
words, to impoverish the peasant, by rendering his
Jabour inadequate to procure him the means of
existence, but, by the pernicious influence of bad
example, injure the prudential habits of the poor.
And they also damp the spirit of independence,
and check the noble desire of providing for them
selves and their families^ by the exertions of ho
nourable industry, in the minds of our peasantry.
Hence that listless indifference about the future,
that careless disregard of character and of honesty,
which sink men down to the very dregs of misery
and vice, and, consequently, sap the foundations
of all public virtue and power.
They also cut asunder those sacred and hallow-

33Q
ed bonds which unite, in the links of affection and
of mutual dependence, all the members of the
same family. They destroy the natural and ac
quired affection between parents and children,
which' is the only basis of vii tue and, religion, the
sure and steady incentive to industry and good
conduct; the immutable and eternal bulwark and
protection of the human race. When these liv
ing springs of every earthly good are dried up, a
nation becomes the certain victim of all the hor
rors which perversion of heart and obliquity of
mind can produce. > ;
The only means, then, of preventing the deso
lation of our country from the destructive conse
quences of the present code of poor law's, are to be
sought for and found in the proper education of
all the children of the peasantry, whereby wc may
induce moral .and religious habits to adorn, the
period of manhoodi, to give consolation and peace
to age, and to diffuse throughout all the corners
of the kingdom the blessings of plenty, of happi
ness, of virtue, and of power. Unless this is done,
workhouses may be piled upon Workhouses, alms
houses may be multiplied without number, public
charities and hospitals may be erected, with un
wearied and increasing diligence throughout- the
land, and yet halt behind the alarmingly accclo
Z2

340
rated progress of an excessive population, and its
inseparable concomitants, penury, disease, apd
famine. Thebenefits arising from affording to the cotta
ger the means of acquiring property, and of pos
sessing objects soliciting his care and industry, are
great, uniform,- and extensive. Not a single in
stance of inconvenience, produced by this measure,
has occurred. Experience has set her broadest and
most impressive seal on this consolatory and heart-
delighting truth, that this indulgence has always
invariably rendered the cottager more industrious;
the wife more ceconomical and active; the chil
dren better educated, and more fitted to become
useful and productive members of society ; that
they have reduced the parish-rates to the mete
form of a parochial assessment ; while the posses
sions of the cottager have afforded, at a moderate
price, many necessary articles of life, the produc
tion of which is considered as beneath the atten
tion of the present enlarged and speculating system
of agriculture.
Tp sum pp in a few Words what the poor de^
serve and require at our hands, as we hope to ren
der a good account of our stewardship to Him who
is no respecter of persons, arid from whom no

341
thoughts are hidden, may not perhaps be useless
or superfluous. It is incumbent on us to educate
their children in habits of morality, of religion, of
industry, of cleanliness, and of independence ; to
erect schools of instruction, and places of main
tenance, for the indigent blind ; to supply the cot
tager's family with employments that promote
health, and contribute to the public utility ; to en
courage virtue and industry by public rewards and
testimonials, or by personal kindness and affec
tionate attention ; to prevent the progress of vice,
and of infectious disease, and to restore the poor,
labouring under sickness, to health and strength,
by properly established and_judiciously regulated
asylums, houses of recovery, dispensaries, and me
dical hospitals ; and, lastly, to invite the forlorn and
deserted wanderer by the voice of kindness, and
the soothings of mercy, from the sink of iniquity
and of misery, and lead her into the paths of in
dustry and virtue ; to extract the dart of agony
from her soul, and pour into her wounded con
science the balm of hope and of ftligion.
Surely, the name and the memorial of the So
ciety for bettering the condition of the Poor, shall
bo remembered with praise and with gratitude by
the sons and the daughters of men, long as the
least ray of goodness shall illumine the habitations
Z3

!.342
of mortality. The founders pf this blessed institu
tion shall enjoy the unutterable rapture of having
'diffused the smiles of plenty over a barren and a de-
< solated waste; of having collected the scattered and
diverging rays of benevolence and of charity, and
- directed them, in one full blaze of mercy and be
nignity, upon countless myriads of the human race.
Babes that are yet unborn shall be taught to lisp
their' first accents of praise and of gratitude in ho-
-nour of Bernard, and of Rumford » the pride and
. the strength of manhood shall rally round them
. and; their posterity, and deem it the height of glory
¦ arid of honour to preserve the lives of these bene
factors of mankind at the expence of their own
-existence ; and old age shall weary heaven with
'prayers for the prosperity and happiness of their
'guardian angels.
- These men, highly favoured of Heaven, have
¦planted a tree in the soil of mercy and of charity ;
they have cherished it by the beams of benevolence,
and have watered it with the streams of religion.:
I sincerely and devoutly pray, that the God of all
- goodness and wisdom will permit it to ripen into
i maturity, and to blossom into fruit ; that its branches
may overshadow the earth, and afford shade and
shelter to all the offspring of Adam from the burn
ing fire -of oppression, and the chill,. desolating
blasts of penury and want.

343
This Society has laid the great pillars of its edi
fice on the rock of ages ; and the storms of time,
and the tempests of the world, shall beat against it
in vain ; it shall stand a monument of wisdom, and
a memorial of goodness, throughout all the circling
seasons of eternity. i
This pure and hallowed temple of the Most
High God shall preserve its sacred fire unquenched
and unextinguished, even amidst the crash of de
solation, when the elements shall melt with fervent
heat, when the sun shall, be darkened, and the
moon shall refuse to give her light, when the book
of life shall be opened, and the last dread judg
ment, from which there is no appeal, shall be pro
nounced, on every man according to his deeds,
when every mouth shall be stopped, and the Re
deemer shall display the wonders of his glory to all
his saints.
A very few of the queries, which each Friend is
required to answer, either to the quarterly or yearly
meetings, will be abundantly sufficient to shew,
.that they are admirably calculated to promote the
.cause of true religion, of morality, and of all. good
civil government. To the men are proposed such
questions as these : — Are meetings for worship and
discipline kept up, and do Friends attend them
Z4

344
duly, and at the time appointed j and do they.
avoid all unbecoming behaviour therein? Do
Friends, by precept and example, train up their
children, servants, and households, in a religious
life and conversation, and frequent reading of the
holy scriptures ? Are Friends clear of defrauding
the king of his customs, duties, and excise, and of
using or dealing in goods suspected to be run ?
The women's queries run much in the same
strain of piety, morality, and sound policy; as like
wise do those to the quarterly meetings, and to the
meetings of ministers and elders, &c. &c.
The intention of these queries is to obtain infor
mation of the religious, moral, and civil conduct
¦of each individual Friend; and also to impress
upon their minds the necessity and the benefit of
frequent self-examination, and trying their hearts
by the precepts and the spirit of the gospel.
The Friends are advised to enter all their meet
ing-houses, and mansion-houses, where meetings
may be held, on record, according to the Statute,
1- W.'&'M. c. 18, s. 19. Then follow some direc~
tions to be observed in recording marriages, births,
and burials, on which it is needless to comment,
as they merely relate to a formal part of the polity

345
, of the Friends, by all pf whom they are known, and
do not materially affect the other orders of thecpnv
munity. i
The regulations with regard to the removals
and settlements of Friends ate well fitted to prcr
serve that vigilance over the conduct pf every indi
vidual, which is the surest basis of political regula
rity and subordination. All Friends, either single
or with families, removing from one monthly meet
ing to another, in Great Britain, Ireland, and Ame
rica, are to have certificates, or other usual recom
mendation, from the monthly meeting to which
they belong, of their sober and orderly conversa
tion ; if single, of their clearness respecting mar
riage-engagements; if ministers, of their unity with
their ministry, &c. &o.
Friends are advised not to engage in more trade
than they can honourably and punctually manage;
to be exact in paying all their debts ; not to be top
anxious for the wealth of this world ; if any fail,
to be most strict in paying all their creditors to
the uttermost farthing, if ever they shall have it in
their power, notwithstanding the law discharges
certificated bankrupts from such obligations ; for
the principles of the Friends enjoin full satisfaction
to be made if ever the debtors are of ability ; and

346
•those who fail in paying their just debts, shall not
be admitted into acts of meetings for discipline.
If any Friends find that their circumstances are de
clining, they are advised to disclose the truth to
some judicious members of the Society, or principal
creditors, and do all that is right and just as to
their creditors, with what property they have yet
remaining from their unsuccessful trade.
These, and some other regulations, are excel
lently adapted to promote all the best interests of
commerce, and to augment the real and essential
strength of the nation.
The regulations with regard to wills, executors,
and administrators, breathe the same spirit of wis
dom and justice as do the other political ordinances
of the Friends. They are exhorted to make their
wills while in sound health and understanding ;
to frame equitable testaments ; to appoint faithful
and upright guardians for their children ; to dis
charge all the trusts of wardship well and truly, &c.
! Thus we have seen that the body-politic of the
Friends is a judicious system of representation, ad
mirably calculated to promote the views of the So
ciety, as their flourishing state (even under some
discouragements from the government till of late

347
years) still maintaining, nay increasing, its prospe
rity and vigour through a long lapse of ages, suffi
ciently evinces ; and we have also abundantly per
ceived, that their views are founded on the eternal
and immutable basis of pure religion, and of ge
nuine, unadulterated morality.

348

CHAPTER IV.
INFLUENCE OF THE TENETS OF THE FRIENDS ON
THEIR CONDUCT AS SUBJECTS OF THE BRITISH
GOVERNMENT.
A VERY few words will suffice to discuss this
head : if, as hath been abundantly manifested
throughout the course of this treatise, the religious
tenets of the Friends are in pure accordance with
the blessed precepts of Christianity, as contained in
the sacred pages of the scriptures ; if their conduct,
as individuals, is in strict conformity with their re-
ligious tenets ; and if their system, as a body-po
litic (as a Society separate from the other orders of
the community), is regulated and conducted by
laws and ordinances built on the everlasting rock
of ages ; how is it possible for them not to be the
best of subjects to the government under which
they live ? While virtue,, industry, ceconomy, and
obedience to the laws, shall continue to be the
firmest supports and bulwarks of all national power
and strehgth, so long shall the Society of Friends
continue to be a pure and a perpetual fountain of
life and health to all the British empire, through-

349
Put every department of the community, from him
Who binds the imperial diadem on his brow, to the
poor, naked wretch, who, in misery's squalid nest,
strains her infant to her joyless bosom, and, with a
mother's fears, shrinks at the rocking blast.
As far as I can judge, from my present store of
information, I am, inclined to believe that the
Friends approach as near, if not nearer, than any
Other religious persuasions, to the primitive purity
and apostolic simplicity of the christian church, as
is plainly evinced by their rejecting all idle and
superfluous ceremonies, which serve only to in
cumber the devout believer in his worship of the
Almighty ; by the uprightness and integrity of
their conduct ; by their earnest zeal to serve God
and his Christ ; by their abhorrence from all vio
lence and blood ; by their sobriety, their great
moral decorum, avoiding everi the semblance of
eyil, and by their strict regard to truth. As Etas-
muSj When he came over to England, said—" Let
me live amOng the Puritans" — so I say. Let my
life be the life of the Friends, and let my last end
be like theirs. It is because I esteem and reve
rence their principles, that I have presented to
them, and to the world, these observations.
If any one among the Friends, whom I honour

350
and respect, (and many such there are) should be
displeased at what I have written, although I may
be grieved at having incurred their disapprobation,
yet I cannot repent of the part which I have acted,
because, though I would willingly live in peace and
good fellowship with all mankind, and would most
Studiously, endeavour not to make one worthy man
my foe, yet truth and religion are with me consi
derations high and paramount above all others, and
to which even the tenderness of affection, and the
importunities of friendship, must yield — Amicus
Socrates, amicus Plato, sed magis arnica Veritas.— To
the Society of Friends I earnestly and ardently wish
every blessing that peace, and happiness, and abun
dance, and religion, can impart, and most joyfully
would I do any thing in my power to prompte its
welfare. If I had not thought these my observations likely
to be productive of benefit, they should never have
seen the light; I would much rather burn the
right band that penned them, than do aught which
might militate against the great cause of religion,
which is my only source of comfort here, and my
only fountain of hope hereafter ; without which,
all that the present can impart is satiety of misery,
and all that the future can offer, hopeless despon
dency ; without which, all that I now possess is

351
vain and unsatisfactory, and all within the comT
pass of my prospective ken, palled in the dunnest
smoke of hell.
" My friend, religion streaks our morning hright,
Religion gilds the horror of our night.
When wealth forsakes us, and when friends are few;
When friends are faithless, or when foes pursue;
Religion wards theblow, or stills the smart, .
Disarms affliction, or repels his dart;
Within the breast bids purest raptures rise,
Bids smiling conscience spread her cloudless skies."
•' When pleasure fascinates the mental sight,
Affliction purifies the visual ray,
Religion hails the drear, the untried night,
And shuts, for ever shuts, life's doubtful day.*'
I trust that the Friends, actuated by the sa"°e
spirit of Christianity which has hituv.;:^ so ':<:J~
nently adorned their conduct, will forgive, me for
any mistakes under which I may have laboured,
as to the statement of facts, and the deductions
drawn from those farfs in this work, when I mpst
solemnly assure them, that they have not been vo
luntary on my part, and that wherein I am wrong,
I shall esteem it as a kindness to be set right by
those who are better informed upon the subject
thaa I am, and shall thankfully receive all their
corrections, as endeavours towards establishing
truth, and reason, and religion in the bearts of

35»
men, for the amelioration of the lot of humanity.
What I have said has been uttered with the fer
vent desire of promoting the welfare of mankind;
the most effectual means of doing which, I firmly
believe to be cultivating the mind as much as pos
sible, first training it in all the great truths and
duties of religion, then by invigorating and ex
panding all its faculties by the profoundest re
searches into science, and the most extensive range
in thp pursuits of literature. If I am in an error,
I shall be, obliged to any one who will take the
trouble of removing my mistake; at present I will
take my leave in the well-known words of a sen
sible antient :

• ," Si quid novisti rectius istis

Candidus imperti; si non his utere mecum."
And I will add, with the enlightened and the
intrepid Marchese Beccarria,
" Gli nomini pensatori, pe' quali scrivo, sapranno
<{ distinguere i miei passi. Me fortunato, se potro
*' ottenere i segretti ringraziamenti degli oscuri e
" pacific! seguaci della ragione, e se potro inspi-
*' rare quel dolce fremito, con cui le anime sensi-
" bili rispondono a chi eostiene gl' interessi della
" umanita;"
-- To the public I would say a few words before I

353
lay down my pen, and consign myself to their
final decision upon this little book. I have labour
ed to render this treatise as worthy the attention
of the people of Great Britain, as it was possible for
me to do under the pressure of existing circum
stances. The whole, or very nearly the whole, of
this work was written between the hours of twelve
at midnight and two in the morning, after a very
toilsome day spent in. a special pleader's office,
during the busiest legal term in the year. I ge
nerally came to my labour after the midnight bell
had tolled its hour, with a frame worn down by
toil, and enfeebled by disease; with a mind lace-
cerated and torn by ten thousand conflicting
thoughts and emotions; with a heart saddened and
depressed, even to the very confines of despair, by
the recollection of other days and of other times,
ere the ardour of hope had been extinguished by
the bitterness of disappointment, when the beams
of expectation tinged with their richest hue, and
most glowing cokrura, all th6 prospect of my fu
ture hours; for gay was my morn of life, and
bright the spring-tide of my existence; — but
pow,— -
" Still, shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet thro' life's deceitful dream ;,
Till at some stroke of fate the vision flies,
And sad realities in prospect rise ;
Aa

354
And from elysian slumbers rudely torn,
The startled soul awakes to think and mourn.
O ye, whose hours in jocund train advance,
Whose spirits to the song of gladness dance,
Who flow'ry plains in endless pomp survey,
Glittering in beams of visionary day;
O yet, while fate delays th' impending woe,
Be rous'd to thought, anticipate the blow;
Lest, like the lightning's glance, the sudden ill
Flash to confound, and penetrate to kill ;
Lest, thus encompass'd with funereal gloom,
Like me, ye sorrow o'er a darken'd doom,
Pour your wild ravings in Night's frighted ear,
And half pronounce Heaven's sacred law severe.
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn !
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw;.
Disclosing, dubious to the affrighted eye,
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black, billowy deeps, in storm perpetual tost,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost ;
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul, with boundless flight to soar
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more."'
I have often mused a little moment, and as I
struck upon the strings of my harp darkly, I have,
as it were, voluntarily sighed to myself, and said,,
" Oh that my father had ne'er on me smil'd ;
Oh that my mother had ne'er to me sung ;
Oh, that my cradle had never been rock'd,
But that I had died When I was young !'' ,

355
" Tho' now rejoicing Nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hue,
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steep'd in morning dew:
" In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the violets spring,
In vain to me, in glen or shaw,
The lintwhite and the mavis sing.
" The merry ploughboy cheers his team,
Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks,
But life's, to me a weary dream,
A dream of ane that never wauks.
" The wanton coot the water skims ;
Among the reeds the ducklings cry;
The stately swan majestic swims,
And every thing is blest but I.
," Ruin's wheel has driven o'er me,
Not a hope that dare attend;
The wide world is all before me,
But a world without a friend.
" The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,
The joyless winter day,
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May.
" The temptest's howl, it sooths my soul,
My'griefs it seems to join;
The leafless' trees my fancy pleas ?,
Their fate resembles' mine.
A a 2

356
« Come Winter; with thine angry howl,
And, raging,, bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will sooth my cheerless soul,
When Nature all is sad like me!"
I could, with truth, say to one individual on this
earthly globe,
" Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,
Yet caulder thy kindness for me ;
The frost, while it freezes the life at my heart,
Is naught to my pains frae thee. i
" The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,
And the time it is setting'with me;
Thou hardest of hearts, farewell, for nae mair
Again shall I trouble thee."
*' Let the day perish wherein I was born, and
the night in which it was said, there is a man child
conceived. Let that day be darkness ; let not God
regard it from above, neither let the light shine
upon it. Let daxkness„and the shadow of death
stain it, let a cloud dwell upon it, let the blackness
of the day terrify it-.. As for that night, let dark
ness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the
days of the year, let it not come into the number
of the months. Lo, let that night be solitary, let
no joyful voice come therein. Let them curse it
that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their

357
mourning. Let the stars of the twilight thereof
be dark, let it look for light, but have none, nei
ther let it see the dawning of the day; because it
shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor
hid sorrow from mine eyes."
The peculiarity of my situation, I hope, will
prove some little apology for the many imperfec
tions, omissions, and errors, in this work ; and also
for the sad and sombre tints which a depressed and
a melancholy imagination must have thrown over
many of the subjects which I have treated ; for
surely those images which pass through a gloomy
and a darkened medium, cannot be expected to
glow with the vivid hue, and the ever-deepening
dye of those phantasmal forms of glory, pourtray-
ed by the waking fariCy of those whom sorrow
never wounded, of those who never heaved a sigh,
or shed the bitter tear.
It thu«t also be sortie excuse for trrer-many inac
curacies of the quotations in this treatise, that (in
the total absence of books) they are all cited from
memory; and I feel that my memory is not now
what it once was ; for sorrow rases from out the
book and volume of the brain all trivial, fond re
cords, all saws of books, all forms, all pressures
past, that youth and observation copied there,

353
and in the tablet of the memory infixes deeply
the recollection of its own anguish.
If any one should say to me, why then do you
publish your work now ? why do you not wait till
a more favourable opportunity shall give you
greater leisure, and afford you access to books
once again, in order that you may render yonr
production less unworthy of the public eye? I an
swer — that I know not when the iron hand of ne
cessity shall relax her grasp, and unchain me from
a daily toil of more than twelve full hours at a
pleader's desk; and that I am particularly desirous
of doing all the little that I can towards bearing
my testimony of applause and honour to the pure
and the commendable conduct of a Society, the
excellence of whose tenets is not sufficiently nor
universally known ; and also that I might as soon
as possible openly and unequivocally declare to the
world, that I reflect with the extremest pangs of
sorrow, and_ tbe_jnost excruciatW4£jigoiiy_ of re
morse, that I did not earlier in life know that
which I now feel to be incontrovertibly true, that
the heart, benevolent and kind to all the indivi
duals of the human race, the most resembles God.
" Here pause my rude attempt a little while,
The leisure hour is all that thou canst claim,
But if the virtuous en this page should smile,
Throbs of pure joy shall thrill through all my frame,

359
For their applause to me is more than fame:
Since still with truth accords their taste refin'd.
At lucre or renown let others aim,
I only wish to please their gentle mind,
Whom Nature's charms inspire, and love of human kind."

THE END.

T. Gillet, Printer, Salisbury-Square,

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

3 9002 02162 0043

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