WeRead Powered by ReaderPub
A Portraiture of Quakerism, Volume 1 / Taken from a View of the Education and Discipline, Social Manners, Civil and Political Economy, Religious Principles and Character, of the Society of Friends cover

A Portraiture of Quakerism, Volume 1 / Taken from a View of the Education and Discipline, Social Manners, Civil and Political Economy, Religious Principles and Character, of the Society of Friends

Chapter 52: SECT. III.
Open in WeRead

Explore more books like this:

About This Book

The author examines the education, discipline, social manners, civil and political economy, religious principles, and character of the Society of Friends, arguing that moral education requires restraint of amusements and worldly excitements. Detailed chapters analyze and condemn games of chance, instrumental and vocal music, the theatre, and dancing on grounds that they disturb inward silence, inflame passions, encourage gambling and avarice, and weaken domestic and religious happiness. Historical anecdotes, doctrinal arguments, and responses to objections trace early Quaker positions and their continued application to contemporary social practices.

[Footnote 43: The Quakers never refuse the legal titles in the superscription or direction of their letter. They would direct to the king, as king: to a peer according to his rank, either as a duke, marquis, earl, viscount, or baron: to a clergyman, not as reverend, but as clerk.]

These several alterations, which took place in the language of the early Quakers, were adopted by their several successors, and are in force in the society at the present day.

SECT. III.

Other alterations in the language—the names of the days and months altered—reasons for this change—the word saint disused—various new phrases introduced.

Another alteration, which took place in the language of the Quakers was the disuse of the common names of the days of the week, and of those of the months of the year.

The names of the days were considered to be of heathen origin. Sunday had been so called by the Saxons, because it was the day, on which they sacrificed to the sun. Monday on which they sacrificed to the moon. Tuesday to the god Tuisco. Wednesday to the god Woden. Thursday to the god Thor, and so on. Now when the Quakers considered that Jehovah had forbidden the Israelites to make mention even of the names of other gods, they thought it inconsistent in Christians to continue to use the names of heathen idols for the common divisions of their time, so that these names must be almost always in their mouths. They thought too, that they were paying a homage, in continuing the use of them, that bordered on idolatry. They considered also as neither Monday, nor Tuesday, nor any other of these days, were days, in which these sacrifices were now offered, they were using words, which conveyed false notions of things. Hence they determined upon the disuse of these words, and to put other names in their stead. The numerical way of naming the days seemed to them to be the most rational, and the most innocent. They called therefore Sunday the first day, Monday the second, Tuesday the third, and soon to Saturday, which was of course the seventh. They used no other names but these, either in their conversation, or in their letters.

Upon the same principles they altered the names of the months also. These, such as March and June, which had been so named by the ancient Romans, because they were sacred to Mars and Juno, were exploded, because they seemed in the use of them to be expressive of a kind of idolatrous homage. Others again were exploded, because they were not the representatives of the truth. September, for example, means the [44]seventh month from the storms. It took this seventh station in the kalendar of Romulus, and it designated there its own station as well as the reason of its name. But when it[45] lost its place in the kalendar by the alteration of the style in England, it lost its meaning. It became no representative of its station, nor any representative of the truth. For it still continues to signify the seventh month, whereas it is made to represent, or to stand in the place of, the ninth. The Quakers therefore banished from their language the ancient names of the months, and as they thought they could not do better than they had done in the case of the days, they placed numerical in their stead. They called January the first month, February the second, March the third, and so on to December, which they called the twelfth. Thus the Quaker kalendar was made up by numerical distinctions, which have continued to the present day.

[Footnote 44: Septem ab imbribus.]

[Footnote 45: This was in the year 1752, prior to this time the year began on the 25th of March: and therefore September stood in the English as in the Roman kalendar. The early Quakers, however, as we find by a minute in 1697, had then made these alterations; but when the new style was introduced, they published their reasons for having done so.]

Another alteration, which took place very generally in the language of the Quakers, was the rejection of the word saint, when they spoke either of the apostles, or of the primitive fathers. The papal authority had canonized these. This they considered to be an act of idolatry, and they thought they should be giving a sanction to superstition, if they continued the use of such a title, either in their speech or writings. After this various other alterations took place according as individuals among them thought it right to expunge old expressions, and to substitute new; and these alterations were adopted by the rest, as they had an opinion of those who used them, or as they felt the propriety of doing it. Hence new phrases came into use, different from those which were used by the world on the same occasions; and these were gradually spread, till they became incorporated into the language of the society. Of these the following examples may suffice.

It is not usual with Quakers to use the words lucky or fortunate, in the way in which many others do. If a Quaker had been out on a journey, and had experienced a number of fine days, he would never say that he had been lucky in his weather. In the same manner if a Quaker had recovered from an indisposition, he would never say, in speaking of the circumstance, that he had fortunately recovered, but he would say, that he had recovered, and "that it was a favour." Luck, chance, or fortune, are allowed by the Quakers to have no power in the settlement of human affairs.

It is not usual with Quakers to beg ten thousand pardons, as some of the world do, for any little mistake. A Quaker generally on such an occasion asks a persons excuse.

The Quakers never make use of the expression "christian name." This name is called christian by the world, because it is the name given to children in baptism, or in other words, when they are christened, or when they are initiated as christians. But the Quakers are never baptised. They have no belief that water-baptism can make a christian, or that it is any true mark of membership with the christian church. Hence a man's christian name is called by them his first name, because it is the first of the two, or of any other number of names, that may belong to him.

The Quakers, on meeting a person, never say "good morrow," because all days are equally good. Nor in parting with a person at night, do they say "good evening," for a similar reason, but they make use of the expression of "farewell."

I might proceed, till I made a little vocabulary of Quaker-expressions; but this is not necessary, and it is not at all consistent with my design. I shall therefore only observe, that it is expected of Quakers, that they should use the language of the society; that they should substitute thou for you; that they should discard all flattering titles and expressions; and that they should adopt the numerical, instead of the heathen names, of the days and months. George Fox gave the example himself in all these instances. Those of the society, who depart from this usage, are said by the Quakers to depart from "the plain language."

SECT. IV.

Great objections by the world against the preceding alterations by the Quakers—first against the use of thou for you—you said to be no longer a mark of flattery—the use of it is said to be connected often with false Grammar—Custom said to give it, like a noun of number, a singular as well as plural Meaning—Consideration of these objections.

There will be no difficulty in imagining, if the Quakers have found fault with the words and expressions adopted by others, and these the great majority of the world, that the world will scrutinize, and find fault with, those of the Quakers in return. This in fact has turned out to be the case.—And I know of no subject, except that of dress, where the world have been more lavish of their censures, than in that before us.

When the Quakers first appeared as a religious community, many objections were thrown but against the peculiarities of their language. These were noticed by Robert Barclay and William Penn. But, since that time, other objections have been started. But as these have not been published (for they remain where they have usually been, in the mouths of living persons) Quaker writers have not felt themselves called upon to attempt to answer them. These objections, however, of both descriptions, I shall notice in the present place.

As the change of the pronoun thou for you was the first article, that I brought forward on the subject of the language of the Quakers, I shall begin with the objections, that are usually started against it.

"Singularity, it is said, should always be avoided, if it can be done with a clear conscience. The Quakers might have had honest scruples against you for thou, when you was a mark of flattery. But they can have no reasonable scruples now, and therefore they should cease to be singular, for the word you is clearly no mark of flattery at the present day. However improper it might once have been, it is now an innocent synonime."

"The use again of the word thou for you, as insisted upon by the Quakers, leads them frequently into false grammar. 'Thee knowest,' and terms like these, are not unusual in Quaker mouths. Now the Quakers, though they defended the word thou for you on the notion, that they ought not to accustom their lips to flattery, defended it also strenuously on the notion, that they were strictly adhering to grammar-rules. But all such terms as 'thee knowest,' and others of a similar kind, must recoil upon themselves as incorrect, and as censurable, even upon their own ground."

"The word you again may be considered as a singular, as well as a plural expression. The world use it in this manner. And who are the makers of language, but the world? Words change their meaning, as the leaves their colour in autumn, and custom has always been found powerful enough to give authority for a change."

With respect to these objections, it may be observed, that the word you has certainly so far lost its meaning, as to be no longer a mark of flattery. The Quakers also are occasionally found in the use of the ungrammatical expressions, that have been brought against them. And unquestionably, except they mean to give up the grammatical part of the defence by Penn and Barclay, these ought to be done away. That you, however, is of the singular number, is not quite so clear. For while thou is used in the singular number in the Bible, and in the liturgy, and in the prayers of individuals, and while it is the language, as it is, of a great portion of the inhabitants of the northern part of the kingdom, it will be a standing monument against the usurpation and mutilated dominion of you.

SECT. V.

Secondly against the words friend and neighbour, as used by the Quakers—Quakers also said to be wrong in their disuse of titles—for the use of these is sanctioned by St. Luke and St. Paul—answer of Barclay to the latter assertion—this answer not generally deemed satisfactory—observations upon the subject in dispute.

The subject, that comes next in order, will be that of the objections, that are usually made against certain terms used by the Quakers, and against their disuse of titles of honour, as sanctioned by the world.

On the use of the words "friend, and neighbour," it is usually observed, that these are too limited in their meaning, to be always, if used promiscuously, representatives of the truth. If the Quakers are so nice, that they will use no expression, that is not precisely true, they should invent additional terms, which should express the relative condition of those, with whom they converse. The word "friend" denotes esteem, and the word "neighbour" proximity of dwelling. But all the persons, to whom the Quakers address themselves, are not persons, whom they love and respect, or who are the inhabitants of the same neighbourhood with themselves. There is, it is said, as much untruth in calling a man friend, or neighbour, who is not so, as excellency, in whom there may be nothing that is excellent.

The Quakers, in reply to this, would observe, that they use the word friend, as significative of their own union, and, when they speak to others, as significative of their Christian relation to one another. In the same sense they use the word neighbour. Jesus Christ, when the lawyer asked him who was his neighbour, gave him a short[46] history of the Samaritan, who fell among thieves; from which he suggested on inference, that the term neighbour was not confined to those, who lived near one another, or belonged to the same sect, but that it might extend to those, who lived at a distance, and to the Samaritan equally with the Jew. In the same manner he considered all men as[47] brethren. That is, they were thus scripturally related to one another.

[Footnote 46: Luke x. 39.]

[Footnote 47: Matt, xxiii. 8.]

Another objection which has been raised against the Quakers on this part of the subject, is levelled against their disuse of the titles of honour of the world. St. Luke, it has been said, makes use of the terms most excellent, when he addresses Theophilus, and St. Paul of the words most noble, when he addresses Festus. Now the teachers and promulgators of christianity would never have given these titles, if they had not been allowable by the gospel.

As this last argument was used in the time of Barclay, he has noticed it in his celebrated apology.—"Since Luke, says he, wrote by the dictates of the infallible spirit of God, I think it will not be doubted but Theophilus did deserve it, as being really endued with that virtue; in which case we shall not condemn those, who do it by the same rule. But it is not proved, that Luke gave Theophilus this title, as that which was inherent to him, either by his father, or by any patent Theophilus had obtained from any of the princes of the earth, or that he would have given it to him, in case he had not been truly excellent; and without this be proved, which never can, there can nothing hence be deduced against us. The like may be said of that of Paul to Festus, whom he would not have called such, if he had not been truly noble; as indeed he was, in that he suffered him to be heard in his own cause, and would not give way to the fury of the Jews against him. It was not because of any outward title bestowed upon Festus, that he so called him, else he would have given the same compilation to his predecessor Felix, who had the same office, but being a covetous man we find he gives him no such title."

This is the answer of Barclay. It has not however been deemed quite satisfactory by the world. It has been observed that one good action will never give a man a right to a general title. This is undoubtedly an observation of some weight. But it must be contended on the other hand, that both Luke and Paul must have been apprised that the religion, they were so strenuous in propagating, required every man to speak the truth. They must have been apprised also, that it inculcated humility of mind. And it is probable therefore that they would never have bestowed titles upon men, which should have been false in their application, or productive of vanity and pride. St. Luke could not be otherwise than aware of the answer of Jesus Christ, when he rebuked the person for giving him the title of good, because he was one of the evangelists, who[48] recorded it, and St. Paul could not have been otherwise than aware of it also, on account of his intimacy with St. Luke, as well as from other causes.

[Footnote 48: Luke xviii, 18.]

Neither has this answer been considered as satisfactory for another reason. It has been presumed that the expressions of excellent and of noble were established titles of rank, and if an evangelist and an apostle used them, they could not be objectionable if used by others. But let us admit for a moment, that they were titles of rank. How happens it that St. Paul, when he was before Festus, and not in a judicial capacity (for he had been reserved for Caesar's tribunal) should have given him this epithet of noble; and that, when summoned before Felix, and this in a judicial capacity, he should have omitted it? This application of it to the one and not to the other, either implies that it was no title, or, if it was a title as we have supposed, that St. Paul had some reason for this partial use of it. And in this case, no better reason can be given, than that suggested by Barclay. St. Paul knew that Festus had done his duty. He knew, on the other hand, the abandoned character of Felix. The latter was then living, as Josephus relates, in open adultery with Drusilla, who had been married to Azis, and brought away from her husband by the help of Simon a Magician; and this circumstance probably gave occasion to Paul to dwell upon temperance, or continence as the word might be rendered, among other subjects, when he made Felix tremble. But, besides this, he must have known the general character of a man, of whom Tacitus complained, that "his government was distinguished by[49] servility and every species of cruelty and lust."—

[Footnote 49: "Per omnem Saevitiam et Libidinem jus regium servili ingenio exercuit."]

If therefore the epithet of noble was an established title for those Romans, who held the government of Judea, the giving of it to one, and the omission of it to the other, would probably shew the discrimination of St. Paul as a Christian, that he had no objection to give it, where it could be applied with truth, but that he refused it, when it was not applicable to the living character.

But that the expression of excellent or of noble was any title at all, there is no evidence to shew. And first, let us examine the word, which was used upon this occasion. The [50]original Greek word has no meaning as a title in any Lexicon that I have seen. It relates both to personal and civil power, and in a secondary sense, to the strength and disposition of the mind. It occurs but in four places in the New Testament. In two of these it is translated excellent and in the others noble. But Gilbert Wakefield, one of our best scholars has expunged the word noble, and substituted excellent throughout. Indeed of all the meanings of this word noble is the least proper. No judgment therefore can be pronounced in favour of a title by any analysis of the word.

[Footnote 50: [Greek: kralistos]]

Let us now examine it as used by St. Luke. And here almost every consideration makes against it, as an established title. In the first place, the wisest commentators do not know who Theophilus was. It has been supposed by many learned fathers, such as Epephanius, Salvian, and others, that St. Luke, in addressing his gospel to Theophilus, addressed it as the words, "excellent Theophilus" import, to every "firm lover of God," or, if St. Luke uses the style of [51]Athanasius, to "every good Christian." But on a supposition that Theophilus had been a living character, and a man in power, the use of the epithet is against it as a title of rank; because St. Luke gives it to Theophilus in the beginning of his gospel, and does not give it to him, when he addresses him in the acts. If therefore he had addressed him in this manner, because excellent was his proper title, on one occasion, it would have been a kind of legal, and at any rate a disrespectful omission, not to have given it to him on the other. With respect to the term noble as used by St. Paul to Festus, the sense of it must be determined by general as well as by particular considerations. There are two circumstances, which at the first sight make in favour of it as a title,[52]Lysias addresses his letter to the "most excellent Felix," and the orator [53]Tertullus says, "we except it always and in all places most noble Felix!" But there must be some drawback from the latter circumstance, as an argument of weight. There is reason to suppose that this expression was used by Tertullus, as a piece of flattery, to compass the death of Paul; for it is of a piece with the other expressions which he used, when he talked of the worthy deeds done by the providence of so detestable a wretch, as Felix. And it will always be an objection to noble as a legal title, that St. Paul gave it to one governor, and omitted it to another, except he did it for the reasons, that have been before described. To this it may be added, that legal titles of eminence were not then, as at this time of day, in use. Agrippa had no other, or at least Paul gave him no other title, than that of king. If Porcius Festus had been descended from a Patrician, or had had the statues of his ancestors, he might, on these accounts, be said to have been of a noble family. But we know, that nobody on this account, would have addressed him as noble in those days, either by speech or letter. The first Roman, who was ever honoured with a legal title, as a title of distinction, was Octavius, upon whom the senate, but a few years before the birth of Paul, had conferred the name of Augustus. But no procurator of a province took this title. Neither does it appear that the circumstance gave birth to inferior titles to those in inferior offices in the government. And indeed on the title "Augustus" it may be observed, that though it followed the successors of Octavius, it was but sparingly used, being mostly used on medals, monumental pillars, and in public acts of the state. Pliny, in his letters to Trajan, though reputed an excellent prince, addressed him as only sir or master, and he wrote many years after the death of Paul. Athenagoras, in addressing his book, in times posterior to these, to the emperors M. Aurelius Antoninus, and L. Aurelius Commodus, addresses them only by the title of "great princes." In short titles were not in use. They did not creep in, so as to be commonly used, till after the statues of the emperors had begun to be worshipped by the military as a legal and accustomary homage. The terms "eternity and divinity" with others were then ushered in, but these were confined wholly to the emperors themselves. In the time of Constantine we find the title of illustrious. This was given to those princes, who had distinguished themselves in war, but it was not continued to their descendants. In process of time, however, it became more common, and the son of every prince began to be called illustrious.

[Footnote 51: [Greek: makarios] and [Greek: philochrisos] are substituted by Athanasius for the word christian.]

[Footnote 52: Acts, xxiii, 26.]

[Footnote 53: Acts, xxiv. 3.]

SECT. VI.

Thirdly against the alteration of the names of the days and months—people, it is said do not necessarily pay homage to Idols, who continue in the use of the ancient names—if the Quaker principles also were generally adopted on this subject, language would be thrown into confusion—Quakers also, by attempting to steer clear of Idolatry, fall into it—replies of the Quakers to these objections.

The next objections for consideration, which are made against the language of the Quakers, are those which relate to their alteration of the names of the days and the months. These objections are commonly made, when the language of the Quakers becomes a subject of conversation with the world.

"There is great absurdity, it is said, in supposing, that persons pay any respect to heathen idols, who retain the use of the ancient names of the divisions of time. How many thousands are there, who know nothing of their origin? The common people of the country know none of the reasons, why the months, and the days are called as they are. The middle classes are mostly ignorant of the same. Those, who are well informed on the subject, never once think, when they mention the months and days, on the reason of the rise of their names. Indeed the almost hourly use of those names secures the oblivion of their origin. Who, when he speaks of Wednesday and Thursday, thinks that these were the days sacred to Woden and Thor? but there can be no idolatry, where there is no intention to idolize."

"Great weakness, it is said again, is manifested by the Quakers, in quarrelling with a few words in the language, and in living at peace with others, which are equally objectionable. Every reason, it is said, must be a weak one, which is not universal. But if some of the reasons, given by the Quakers, were universally applied, they would throw language into as much confusion as the builders of Babel. The word Smith for example, which is the common name of many families, ought to be objected to by this rule, if the person, to whom it belongs, happens to be a carpenter. And the word carpenter which is likewise a family-name, ought to be objected to, if the person so called should happen to be a smith. And, in this case, men would be obliged to draw lots for numbers, and to be called by the numerical ticket, which they should draw."

"It is objected again to the Quakers, that, by attempting to steer clear of idolatry, they fall into it. The Quakers are considered to be genuine idolaters, in this case. The blind pagan imagined a moral being, either heavenly or infernal, to inhere in a log of wood or a block of stone. The Quakers, in like manner, imagine a moral being, truth or falsehood, to exist in a lifeless word, and this independently of the sense in which it is spoken, and in which it is known that it will be understood. What is this, it is said, but a species of idolatry and a degrading superstition?"

The Quakers would reply to these observations, first, that they do not charge others with idolatry, in the use of these names, who know nothing of their origin, or who feel no impropriety in their use.

Secondly, that if the principle, upon which they found their alterations in language, cannot, on account of existing circumstances, be followed in all cases, there is no reason, why it should not be followed, where it can. In the names of men it would be impossible to adopt it. Old people are going off, and young people are coming up, and people of all descriptions are themselves changing, and a change of names to suit every persons condition, and qualification, would be impossible.

Thirdly, that they pay no more homage or obeisance to words, than the obeisance of truth. There is always a propriety in truth, and an impropriety in falsehood. And in proportion as the names of things accord with their essences, qualities, properties, character, and the like, they are more or less proper. September, for example, is not an appropriate name, if its meaning be enquired into, for the month which it represents: but the ninth month is, and the latter appellation will stand the test of the strictest enquiry.

They would say again that this, as well as the other alterations in their language has had a moral influence on the society, and has been productive of moral good. In the same manner as the dress, which they received from their ancestors has operated as a guardian, or preservative of virtue, so has the language which they received from them also. The language has made the world overseers of the conduct of the society. A Quaker is known by his language as much as by his dress. It operates, by discovering him, as a check upon his actions. It keeps him also, like the dress distinct from others. And the Quakers believe, that they can never keep up their Christian discipline, except they keep clear of the spirit of the world. Hence it has been considered as of great importance to keep up the plain language; and this importance has been further manifested by circumstances, that have taken place within the pale of the society. For in the same manner as those, who begin to depart from the simplicity of dress, are generally in the way to go off among the world, so are those who depart from the simplicity of the language. Each deviation is a sign of a temper for desertion. Each deviation brings them in appearance nearer to the world. But the nearer they resemble the world in this respect, the more they are found to mix with it. They are of course the more likely to be seduced from the wholesome prohibitions of the society. The language therefore of the Quakers has grown up insensibly as a wall of partition, which could not now, it is contended, be taken away without endangering the innocence of their youth.

SECT. VII.

Advantages and disadvantages of the system of the Quaker, language—disadvantages are that it may lead to superstition—and hypocrisy—advantages are that it excludes flattery—is founded upon truth—promotes truth, and correctness in the expression of ideas—observation of Hobbes—would be the most perfect model for a universal calendar—the use or disuse of this system may either of them be made useful to morality.

I have now given to the reader the objections, that are usually made to the alterations, which the Quakers have introduced into the language of the country, as well as the replies, which the Quakers would make to these objections. I shall solicit the continuance of his patience a little longer, or till I have made a few remarks of my own upon this subject.

It certainly becomes people, who introduce great peculiarities into their system, to be careful, that they are well founded, and to consider how far they may bring their minds into bondage, or what moral effects they may produce on their diameter in a course of time.

On the reformed language of the Quakers it may be observed, that both advantages and disadvantages may follow according to the due or undue estimation in which individuals may hold it.

If individuals should lay too great a stress upon language, that is, if they should carry their prejudices so far against outward and lifeless words, that they should not dare to pronounce them, and this as a matter of religion, they are certainly in the way of becoming superstitious, and of losing the dignified independence of their minds.

If again they should put an undue estimate upon language, so as to consider it as a criterion of religious purity, they may be encouraging the growth of hypocrisy within their own precincts. For if the use of this reformed language be considered as an essential of religion, that is, if men are highly thought of in proportion as they conform to it rigidly, it may be a covering to many to neglect the weightier matters of righteousness; at least the fulfilling of such minor duties may shield them from the suspicion of neglecting the greater: and if they should be reported as erring in the latter case, their crime would be less credited under their observance of these minutiae of the law.

These effects are likely to result to the society, if the peculiarities of their language be insisted on beyond their due bounds. But, on the other hand, it must be confessed, that advantages are likely to follow from the same system, which are of great importance in themselves, and which may be set off as a counterbalance to the disadvantages described.

The Quakers may say, and this with the greatest truth, "we have never cringed or stooped below the dignity of men. We have never been guilty of base flattery; we have never been instrumental in raising the creature, with whom we have conversed, above his condition, so that in the imagination of his own consequence, he should lose sight of his dependence on the Supreme Being, or treat his fellow-men, because they should happen to be below him, as worms or reptiles of the earth."

They may say also that the system of their language originated in the purest motives, and that it is founded on the sacred basis of truth.

It may be said also, that the habits of caution which the different peculiarities in their language have introduced and interwoven into their constitution, have taught them particularly to respect the truth, and to aim at it in all their expressions whether in speech or letters, and that it has given them a peculiar correctness in the expression of their ideas, which they would scarcely have had by means of the ordinary education of the world. Hobbes says[54] "animadverte, quam sit ab improprietate verborum pronum hominibus prolabi in errores circa res," or "how prone men are to fall into errors about things, when they use improper expressions." The converse of this proposition may be observed to be true with respect to the Quakers, or it may be observed, that the study of proper expressions has given them correct conceptions of things, and has had an influence in favor of truth. There are no people, though the common notion may be otherwise, who speak so accurately as the Quakers, or whose letters, if examined on any subject, would be so free from any double meaning, so little liable to be mistaken, and so easy to be understood.

[Footnote 54: Hobbesii Examen. et Emend. Hod. Math. P. 55. Edit.
Amstel.]

It may be observed also on the language of the Quakers, that is, on that part of it, which relates to the alteration of the names of the months and days, that this alteration would form the most perfect model for an universal calendar of any that has yet appeared in the world. The French nation chose to alter their calendar, and, to make it useful to husbandry, they designated their months, so that they should be representatives of the different seasons of the year. They called them snowy, and windy, and harvest, and vintage-months, and the like. But in so large a territory, as that of France, these new designations were not the representatives of the truth. The northern and southern parts were not alike in their climate. Much less could these designations speak the truth for other parts of the world: whereas numerical appellations might be adopted with truth, and be attended with usefulness to all the nations of the world, who divided their time in the same manner.

On the latter subject of the names of the days and months, the alteration of which is considered as the most objectionable by the world, I shall only observe, that, if the Quakers have religious scruples concerning them, it is their duty to persevere in the disuse of them. Those of the world, on the other hand, who have no such scruples, are under no obligation to follow their example. And in the same manner as the Quakers convert the disuse of these ancient terms to the improvement of their moral character, so those of the world may convert the use of them to a moral purpose. Man is a reasonable, and moral being, and capable of moral improvement; and this improvement may be made to proceed from apparently worthless causes. If we were to find crosses or other Roman-Catholic relics fixed in the walls of our places of worship, why should we displace them? Why should we not rather suffer them to remain, to put us in mind of the necessity of thankfulness for the reformation in our religion? If again we were to find an altar, which had been sacred to Moloc, but which had been turned into a stepping stone, to help the aged and infirm upon their horses, why should we destroy it? Might it not be made useful to our morality, as far as it could be made to excite sorrow for the past and gratitude for the present? And in the same manner might it not be edifying to retain the use of the ancient names of the days and months? Might not thankful feelings be excited in our hearts, that the crime of idolatry had ceased among us, and that the only remnant of it was a useful signature of the times? In fact, if it be the tendency of the corrupt part of our nature to render innocent things vicious, it is, on the other hand, in the essence of our nature, to render vicious things in process of time innocent; so that the remnants of idolatry and superstition may be made subservient to the moral improvement of mankind.

CHAP. IV.

Address—all nations have used ceremonies of address—George Fox bears his testimony against those in use in his own times—sufferings of the Quakers on this account—makes no exception in favor of royalty—his dispute with Judge Glynn—modern Quakers follow his example—use no ceremonies even to majesty—various reasons for their disuse of them.

All nations have been in the habit of using outward gestures or ceremonies, as marks of affection, obeisance or respect. And these outward ceremonies have been different from one another, so much so, that those, which have been adjudged to be suitable emblems of certain affections or dispositions of the mind among one people, would have been considered as very improper emblems of the same, and would have been even thought ridiculous by another, yet all nations have supposed, that they employed the most rational modes for these purposes. And indeed, there were probably none of these outward gestures and ceremonies, which, in their beginning, would not have admitted of a reasonable defence while they continued to convey to the minds of those, who adopted them, the objects, for which they were intended, or while those, who used them, persevered with sincerity in their use, little or no objection could be made to them by the moralist. But as soon as the ends of their institution were lost, or they were used without any appropriate feeling of the heart, they became empty civilities, and little better than mockery or grimace.

The customs of this sort, which obtained in the time of George Fox, were similar to those, which are now in use on similar occasions. People pulled off their hats, and bowed, and scraped with their feet. And these things they did, as marks of civility, friendship, or respect to one another.

George Fox was greatly grieved about these idle ceremonies. He lamented that men should degrade themselves by the use of them, and that they should encourage habits, that were abhorrent of the truth. His feelings were so strong upon this subject, that he felt himself called upon to bear his testimony against them. Accordingly he never submitted to them himself, and those, who received his religious doctrines, followed his example.

The omission of these ceremonies, however, procured both for him and his followers, as had been the case in the change of thou for you, much ill-will, and harsh treatment. The Quakers were derided and abused. Their hats were taken forcibly from their heads, and thrown away. They were beaten and imprisoned on this sole account. And so far did the world carry their resentment towards them for the omission of these little ceremonies, that they refused for some time to deal with them as tradesmen, or to buy things at their shops, so that some Quakers could hardly get money enough to buy themselves bread.

George Fox, however, and his associates, persevered, notwithstanding this ill usage, in the disuse of all honours, either by the moving of the hat, or the usual bendings of the body; and as that, which was a right custom for one, was a right one for another, they made no exception even in favour of the chief magistrate of the land. George Fox, when he visited Oliver Cromwell as protector, never pulled off his hat; and it is remarkable that the protector was not angry with him for it.

Neither did he pull off his hat to the judges at any time, notwithstanding he was so often brought before them. Controversies sometimes took place between him and them in the public court, upon these occasions, one of which I shall notice, as it marks the manner of conducting the jurisprudence of those times.

When George Fox, and two other friends, were brought out of Launceston gaol, to be tried before judge Glynn, who was then chief justice of England, they came into court with their hats on. The judge asked them the reason of this, but they said nothing. He then told them, that the court commanded them to pull off their hats. Upon this George Fox addressed them in the following manner. "Where, says he, did ever any magistrate, king or judge, from Moses to Daniel, command any to put off their hats, when they came before them in their courts, either amongst the Jews, who were God's people, or among the heathen? And if the law of England doth command any such thing, shew me that law, either written or printed." Judge Glynn upon this grew angry, and replied, that "he did not carry his law-books upon his back." But says George Fox, "tell me where it is printed in any statute-book, that I may read it" The judge, in a vulgar manner, ordered him away, and he was accordingly taken away, and put among thieves. The judge, however, in a short time afterwards ordered him up again, and, on his return put to him the following question, "Come, says he, where had they hats from Moses to Daniel? Come, answer me. I have you fast now." George. Fox replied, that "he might read in the third chapter of Daniel, that the three children were cast into the fiery furnace by Nebuchadnezzar's command, with their coats, their hose, and their hats on." The repetition of this apposite text stopped the judge from any farther comments on the custom, and he ordered him and his companions to be taken away again. And they were accordingly taken away and they were thrust again among thieves. In process of time, however, this custom of the Quakers began to be known among the judges, who so far respected their scruples, as to take care that their hats should be taken off in future in the courts.

These omissions of the ceremonies of the world, as begun by the primitive Quakers, are continued by the modern. They neither bow nor scrape, nor pull off their hats to any, by way of civility or respect, and they carry their principles, like their predecessors, so far, that they observe none of these exterior parts of politeness even in the presence of royalty. The Quakers are in the habit on particular occasions of sending deputies to the king. And it is remarkable that his present majesty always sees them himself, if he be well, and not by proxy. Notwithstanding this, no one in the deputation ever pulls off his hat. Those, however, who are in waiting in the anti-chamber, knowing this custom of the Quakers, take their hats from their heads, before they enter the room, where the king is. On entering the room, they neither bow nor scrape, nor kneel, and as this ceremony cannot be performed for them by others, they go into the royal presence in a less servile, or more dignified manner, than either the representatives of sovereigns, or those, who have humbled nations by the achievement of great victories.

The ground, upon which the Quakers decline the use of the ordinary ceremonies just mentioned, is, the honours are the honours of the world. Now, as that these of the world, they consider them as objectionable on several accounts.

First, they are no more the criterions of obeisance and respect, than mourning garments are the criterions of sorrow. But Christianity is never satisfied but with the truth. It forbids all false appearances. It allows no image to be held out, that is not a faithful picture of its original, or no action to be resorted to, that is not correspondent with the feelings of the heart.

In the second place the Quakers presume, that, as honours of the world, all such ceremonies are generally of a complimentary nature. No one bows to a poor man. But almost every one to the rich, and the rich to one another. Hence bowing is as much a species of flattery through the medium of the body, as the giving of undeserved titles through the medium of the tongue.

As honours of the world again the Quakers think them censurable, because all such honours were censured by Jesus Christ. On the occasion, on which he exhorted his followers not to be like the Scribes and Pharisees, and to seek flattering titles, so as to be called Rabbi Rabbi of man, he exhorted them to avoid all ceremonious salutations, such as greetings in the market-places. He couples the two different customs of flattering titles and salutations in the same sentence, and mentions them in the same breath. And though the word "greetings" does not perhaps precisely mean those bowings and scrapings, which are used at the present day, yet it means, both according to its derivation and the nature of the Jewish customs, those outward personal actions or gestures, which were used as complimentary to the Jewish world.

With respect to the pulling off the hat the Quakers have an additional objection to this custom, quite distinct from the objections, that have been mentioned above. Every minister in the Quaker society takes off his hat, either when he preaches, or when he prays. St Paul[55] enjoins this custom. But if they take off their hats, that is, uncover their heads, as an outward act enjoined in the service of God, they cannot with any propriety take them off, or uncover their heads to men, because they would be giving to the creature the same outward honour which they give to the creator. And in this custom they conceive the world to be peculiarly inconsistent. For men go into their churches, and into their meetings, and pull off their hats, or uncover their heads, for the same reason as the Quaker-ministers when they pray (for no other reason can be assigned) and, when they come out of their respective places of worship, they uncover them again on every trivial occasion, to those whom they meet, using to man the same outward mark of homage, as they had just given to God.

[Footnote 55: 1 Cor. Chap. xi.]

CHAP. V.

Manners and conversation—Quakers esteemed reserved—this an appearance owing to their education—their hospitality in their own houses—the freedom allowed and taken—their conversation limited—politics generally excluded—subjects of conversation examined in our towns—also in the metropolis—no such subjects among the Quakers—their conversation more dignified—extraordinary circumstance that takes place occasionally in the company of the Quakers.

The Quakers are generally supposed to be a stiff and reserved people, and to be a people of severe and uncourteous manners. I confess there is something in their appearance that will justify the supposition in the eyes of strangers, and of such as do not know them: I mean of such, as just see them occasionally out of doors, but do not mix with them in their own houses.

It cannot be expected that persons, educated like the Quakers, should assimilate much in their manners to other people. The very dress they wear, which is so different from that of others, would give them a stiff appearance in the eyes of the world, if nothing else could be found to contribute towards it. Excluded also from much intercourse with the world, and separated at a vast distance from it by the singularity of many of their customs, they would naturally appear to others to be close and reserved. Neither is it to be expected that those, whose spirits are never animated by music, or enlivened by the exhibitions of the theatre, or the diversions which others follow, would have other than countenances that were grave. Their discipline also, which calls them so frequently to important duties, and the dispatch of serious business, would produce the same feature. I may observe also, that a peculiarity of gait, which might be mistaken for awkwardness, might not unreasonably be expected in those, who had neither learned to walk under the guidance of a dancing, master, nor to bow under the direction of the dominion of fashion. If those and those only are to be esteemed really polished and courteous, who bow and scrape, and salute each other by certain prescribed gestures, then the Quakers will appear to have contracted much rust, and to have an indisputable right to the title of a clownish and inflexible people.

I must observe however that these appearances, though they may be substantial in the estimation of those who do not know them, gradually vanish with those, who do. Their hospitality in their own houses, and their great attention and kindness, soon force out of sight all ideas of uncourteousness. Their freedom also soon annihilates those of stiffness and reserve. Their manners, though they have not the polished surface of those which are usually attached to fashionable life, are agreeable, when known.

There is one trait in the Quaker-manners, which runs through the whole society, as far as I have seen in their houses, and which is worthy of mention. The Quakers appear to be particularly gratified, when those, who visit them, ask for what they want. Instead of considering this as rudeness or intrusion, they esteem it as a favour done them. The circumstance of asking, on such an occasion, is to them a proof, that there visitors feel themselves at home. Indeed they almost always desire a stranger who has been introduced to them "to be free." This is their usual expression. And if he assures them that he will, and if they find him asking for what he wishes to have, you may perceive in their countenances the pleasure, which his conduct has given them. They consider him, when he has used this freedom, to have acted as they express it "kindly." Nothing can be more truly polite than that conduct to another, by which he shall be induced to feel himself as comfortably situated, as if he were in his own house.

As the Quakers desire their visitors to be free, and to do as they please, so they do not fail to do the same themselves, never regarding such visitors as impediments in the way of their concerns. If they have any business or engagement out of doors, they say so and go, using no ceremony, and but few words as an apology. Their visitors, I mean such as stay for a time in their houses, are left in the interim to amuse themselves as they please. This is peculiarly agreeable, because their friends know, when they visit them, that they neither restrain, nor shackle, nor put them to inconvenience. In fact it may be truly said that if satisfaction in visiting depends upon a man's own freedom to do as he likes, to ask and to call for what he wants, to go out and come in as he pleases; and if it depends also on the knowledge he has, that, in doing all these things, he puts no person out of his way, there are no houses, where people will be better pleased with their treatment, than in those of the Quakers.

This trait in the character of the Quakers is very general. I would not pretend, however, to call it universal. But it is quite general enough to be pronounced a feature in their domestic character. I do not mean by the mention of it, to apologize, in any manner for the ruggedness of manners of some Quakers. There are undoubtedly solitary families, which having lived in places, where there have been scarcely any of their own society with whom to associate, and which, having scarcely mixed with others of other denominations except in the way of trade, have an uncourteousness, ingrafted in them as it were by these circumstances, which no change of situation afterwards has been able to obliterate.

The subjects of conversation among the Quakers differ, like those of others, but they are not so numerous, neither are they of the same kind, as those of other people.

The Quaker conversation is cramped or fettered for two reasons, first by the caution, that prevails among the members of the society relative to the use of idle words, and secondly by the caution, that prevails among them, relative to the adapting of their expressions to the truth. Hence the primitive Quakers were persons of few words.

The subjects also of the Quaker conversation are limited for several reasons. The Quakers have not the same classical or philosophical education, as those of other denominations in an equal situation in life. This circumstance will of course exclude many topics from their discourse.

Religious considerations also exclude others. Politics, which generally engross a good deal of attention, and which afford an inexhaustible fund of matter for conversation to a great part of the inhabitants of the island, are seldom introduced, and, if introduced, very tenderly handled in general among the Quaker-society. I have seen aged Quakers gently reprove others of tenderer years, with whom they happened to be in company, for having started them. It is not that the Quakers have not the same feelings as other men, or that they are not equally interested about humanity, or that they are incapable of opinions on the changeable political events, that are passing over the face of the globe, that this subject is so little agitated among them. They are usually silent upon it for particular reasons. They consider first, that, as they are not allowed to have any direction, and in many cases could not conscientiously interfere, in government-matters, it would be folly to disquiet their minds with vain and fruitless speculations. They consider again, that political subjects frequently irritate people, and make them warm. Now this is a temper, which they consider to be peculiarly detrimental to their religion. They consider themselves also in this life as but upon a journey to another, and that they should get through it as quietly and as inoffensively as they can. They believe again with George Fox, that, "in these lower regions, or in this airy life, all news is uncertain. There is nothing stable. But in the higher regions, or in the kingdom of Christ, all things are stable: and the news is always good and certain." [56]

[Footnote 56: There is always an exception in favour of conversation on politics, which is, when the government are agitating any question, their interests or their religious freedom is involved.]

As politics do not afford matter for much conversation in the Quaker-society, so neither do some other subjects, that may be mentioned.

In a country town, where people daily visit, it is not uncommon to observe, whether at the card, or at the tea-table, that what is usually called scandal forms a part of the pleasures of conversation. The hatching up of suspicions on the accidental occurrence of trivial circumstances, the blowing up of these suspicions into substances and forms, animadversions on character, these, and such like themes, wear out a great part of the time of an afternoon or an evening visit. Such subjects, however, cannot enter where Quakers converse with one another. To avoid tale-bearing and detraction is a lesson inculcated into them in early youth. The maxim is incorporated into their religion, and of course follows them through life. It is contained in one of their queries. This query is read to them in their meetings, and the subject of it is therefore repeatedly brought to their notice and recollection. Add to which, that, if a Quaker were to repeat any unfounded scandal, that operated to the injury of another's character, and were not to give up the author, or make satisfaction for the same, he would be liable, by the rules of the society, to be disowned.

I do not mean to assert here, that a Quaker never says a harsh thing of another man. All, who profess to be, are not Quakers. Subjects of a scandalous nature may be in introduced by others of another denomination, in which, if Quakers are present, they may unguardedly join. But it is certainly true, that Quakers are more upon their guard, with respect to scandalizing others, than many other people. Nor is this unlikely to be the case, when we consider that caution in this particular is required of them by the laws of their religion. It is certainly true also, that such subjects are never introduced by them, like those at country tea-tables, for the sole purpose of producing conversation. And I believe I may add with truth, that it would even be deemed extraordinary by the society, if such subjects were introduced by them at all.

In companies also in the metropolis, as well as in country towns, a variety of subjects affords food for conversation which never enter into the discourse of the Quakers.

If we were to go into the company of persons of a certain class in the metropolis, we should find them deriving the enjoyments of conversation from some such subjects as the following. One of the company would probably talk of the exquisitely fine manner, in which an actress performed her part on a certain night. This, would immediately give birth to a variety of remarks. The name of one actress would bring up that of another, and the name of one play that of another, till at length the stage would become the source of supplying a subject for a considerable time. Another would probably ask, as soon as this theatrical discussion was over, the opinion of the company on the subject of the duel, which the morning papers had reported to have taken place. This new subject would give new fuel to the fire, and new discussions would take place, and new observations fly about from all quarters. Some would applaud the courage of the person, who had been killed. Others would pity his hard fate. But none would censure his wickedness for having resorted to such dreadful means for the determination of his dispute. From this time the laws of honour would be canvassed, and disquisitions about punctilio, and etiquette, and honour, would arrest the attention of the company, and supply them with materials for a time. These subjects would be followed by observations on fashionable head-dresses, by the relation of elopements, by the reports of affairs of gallantry. Each subject would occupy its own portion of time. Thus each would help to swell up the measure of conversation, and to make up the enjoyment of the visit.

If we were to go among persons of another class in the metropolis, we should probably find them collecting their entertainment from other topics. One would talk on the subject of some splendid route. He would expatiate on the number of rooms that were opened, on the superb manner, in which they were fitted up, and on the sum of money that was expended in procuring every delicacy that was out of season. A second would probably ask, if it were really known, how much one of their female acquaintance had lost at faro. A third would make observations on the dresses at the last drawing room. A fourth would particularize the liveries brought out by individuals on the birth-day. A fifth would ask, who was to have the vacant red ribbon. Another would tell, how the minister had given a certain place to a certain nobleman's third son, and would observe, that the whole family were now provided for by government. Each of these topics would be enlarged upon, as successively started, and thus conversation would be kept going during the time of the visit.

These and other subjects generally constitute the pleasures of conversation among certain classes of persons. But among the Quakers, they can hardly ever intrude themselves at all. Places and pensions they neither do, nor can, hold. Levees and drawing rooms they neither do, nor would consent to, attend, on pleasure. Red ribbons they would not wear if given to them. Indeed, very few of the society know what these insignia mean. As to splendid liveries, these would never occupy their attention. Liveries for servants, though not expressly forbidden, are not congenial with the Quaker-system; and as to gaming, plays, or fashionable amusements, these are forbidden, as I have amply stated before, by the laws of the society.

It is obvious then, that these topics cannot easily enter into conversation, where Quakers are. Indeed, nothing so trifling, ridiculous, or disgusting, occupies their minds. The subjects, that take up their attention, are of a more solid and useful kind. There is a dignity, in general, in the Quaker-conversation, arising from the nature of these subjects, and from the gravity and decorum with which it is always conducted. It is not to be inferred from hence, that their conversation is dull and gloomy. There is often no want of sprightliness, wit, and humour. But then this sprightliness, never borders upon folly, for all foolish jesting is to be avoided, and it is always decorous. When vivacity makes its appearance among the Quakers; it is sensible, and it is uniformly in an innocent and decent dress.

In the company of the Quakers a circumstance sometimes occurs, of so peculiar a nature, that it cannot be well omitted in this place. It sometimes happens, that you observe a pause in the conversation. This pause continues. Surprized at the universal silence now prevailing, you look round, and find all the Quakers in the room apparently thoughtful. The history of the circumstance is this. In the course of the conversation the mind of some one of the persons present has been so overcome with the weight or importance of it, or so overcome by inward suggestions or other subjects, as to have given himself up to meditation, or to passive obedience to the impressions upon his mind. This person is soon discovered by the rest on account of his particular silence and gravity. From this moment the Quakers in company cease to converse. They become habitually silent, and continue so, both old and young, to give the apparently meditating person an opportunity of pursuing uninterruptedly the train of his own thoughts. Perhaps, in the course of his meditations, the subject, that impressed his mind, gradually dies away, and expires in silence. In this case you find him resuming his natural position, and returning to conversation with the company as before. It sometimes happens, however, that, in the midst of his meditations, he feels an impulse to communicate to those present the subject of his thoughts, and breaks forth, seriously explaining, exhorting, and advising, as the nature of it permits and suggests. When he has finished his observations, the company remain silent for a short time, after which they converse again as before.

Such a pause, whenever it occurs in the company of the Quakers, may be considered as a devotional act. For the subject, which occasions it, is always of a serious or religious nature. The workings in the mind of the meditating person are considered either as the offspring of a solemn reflection upon that subject, suddenly and almost involuntarily as it were produced by duty, or as the immediate offspring of the agency of the spirit. And an habitual silence is as much the consequence, as if the person present had been at a place of worship.

It may be observed, however, that such pauses seldom or never occur in ordinary companies, or where Quakers ordinarily visit one another. When they take place, it is mostly when a minister is present, and when such a minister is upon a religious visit to families of a certain district. In such a case such religious pauses and exhortations are not unfrequent. A man however may be a hundred times in the company of the Quakers, and never be present at one of them, and never know indeed that they exist at all.

CHAP. VI.

Custom before meals—ancients formerly made an oblation to Vesta before their meals—Christians have substituted grace—Quakers agree with others in the necessity of grace or thankfulness-but do not adopt it as a devotional act, unless it comes from the heart—allow a silent pause for religious impressions on these occasions—observations on a Scotch grace.

There was a time in the early ages of Greece, when men apparently little better than beasts of prey, could not meet at entertainments, without quarrelling about the victuals before them. The memory of this circumstance is well preserved in the expressions of early writers. In process of time however, regulations began to be introduced, and quarrels to be prevented, by the institution of the office of a divider or distributer of the feast, who should carve the food into equal portions, and help every individual to his proper share. Hence the terms [Greek: Aatfrn] or equal feast, which so frequently occur in Homer, and which were in use in consequence of the division just mentioned, were made use of to shew, that the feasts, then spoken of by him, were different from those of former times. When Homer wishes to describe persons as more civilized than others, he describes them as having this equal feast. That is, men did not appear at these feasts, like dogs and wolves, and instantly devour whatever they could come at, and tear each other to pieces in the end; but they waited till their different portions of meat had been assigned them, and then ate them in amity and peace.

At the time when we find the custom of one man carving for all his guests to have been in use, we find also that another had been introduced among the same people. The Greeks, in the heroic ages, thought it unlawful to eat, till they had first offered a part of their provision to the gods. Hence oblations to Vesta, and afterwards to others, whom their superstition had defied, came into general use, so that these were always made, before the victuals on the table were allowed to be tasted by any of the guests.

These two customs, since that time, have come regularly down to the present day. Every person helps his family and his friends at his own table. But as Christians can make no sacrifices to heathen deities, we usually find them substituting thanksgiving for oblation, and giving to the Creator of the universe instead of an offering of the first fruits from their tables, an offering of gratitude from their hearts.

This oblation, which is now usually denominated grace, consists of a form of words, which, being expressive either of praise or thankfulness to God for the blessings of food, with which he continues to supply them, is repeated by the master of the family, or by a minister of the gospel if present, before any one partakes of the victuals, that are set before him. These forms, however, differ, as used by Christians. They differ in length, in ideas, in expression. One Christian uses one form, another uses another. It may however be observed, that the same Christian generally uses the same form of words, or the same grace, on the same occasion.

The Quakers, as a religious body, agree in the propriety of grace before their meals, that is in the propriety of giving thanks to the author of every good gift for this particular bounty of his providence as to the articles of their daily subsistence, but they differ as to the manner and seasonableness of it on such occasions. They think that people who are in the habit of repeating a determined form of words, may cease to feel, as they pronounce them, in which case the grace becomes an oblation from the tongue, but not from the heart. They think also that, if grace is to be repeated regularly, just as the victuals come, or as regularly and as often as they come upon the table, it may be repeated unseasonably, that is unseasonably with the state of the heart of him, who is to pronounce it; that the heart of man is not to-day as it was yesterday, nor at this hour what it was at a former, nor on any given hour alike disposed; and that if this grace is to be said when the heart is gay, or light, or volatile, it ceases to be a devotional act, and becomes at least a superflous and unmeaning, if not a censurable form.

The Quakers then to avoid the unprofitableness of such artificial graces on the one hand, and, on the other, to give an opportunity to the heart to accord with the tongue, whenever it is used in praise of the Creator, observe the following custom. When they are all seated at table, they sit in solemn silence, and in a thoughtful position, for some time. If the master of the family, during this silence, should feel any religious impression on his mind, whether of praise or thankfulness on the occasion, he gives utterance to his feelings. Such praise or thanksgiving in him is considered as a devotional act, and as the Quaker grace. But if, after having waited in silence for some time, he feels no such religious disposition, he utters no religious expression. The Quakers hold it better to say no grace, than to say that, which is not accompanied by the devotion of the heart. In this case he resumes his natural position, breaks the silence by means of natural discourse, and begins to carve for his family or his friends.

This is the ordinary way of proceeding in Quaker families, when alone, or in ordinary company. But if a minister happens to be at the table, the master of the family, conceiving such a man to be more in the habit of religious impressions than himself, or any ordinary person, looks up as it were to him, as to a channel, from whence it is possible, that such religious exercise may come. If the minister, during the solemn, silent pause, is impressed, he gives utterance as before: if not, he relieves himself from his grave and thoughtful position, and breaks the silence of the company by engaging in natural discourse. After this the company proceed to their meals.

If I were to be asked whether the graces of the Quakers were frequent, I should reply in the negative. I never heard any delivered, but when a minister was present. The ordinary grace therefore of private families consists in a solemn, silent, pause, between the time of sitting down to the table and the note of carving the victuals, during which an opportunity is given for the excitement of religious feelings. A person may dine fifty times at the tables of the Quakers, and see no other substitution for grace than this temporary silent pause.

Indeed no other grace than this can be consistent with Quaker-principles. It was coeval with the institution of the society, and must continue while it lasts. For thanksgiving is an act of devotion. Now no act, in the opinion of the Quakers, can be devotional or spiritual, except it originate from above. Men, in religious matters can do nothing of themselves, or without the divine aid. And they must therefore wait in silence for this spiritual help, as well in the case of grace, as in the case of any other kind of devotion, if they mean their praise or thanksgiving on such occasions to be an act of religion.

There is in the Quaker-grace, and its accompaniments, whenever it is uttered, an apparent beauty and an apparent solemnity, which are seldom conspicuous in those of others. How few are there, who repeat the common artificial graces feelingly, and with minds intent upon the subject! Grace is usually said as a mere ceremony or custom. The Supreme Being is just thanked in so many words, while the thoughts are often rambling to other subjects. The Quaker-grace, on the other hand, whenever it is uttered; does not come out in any mechanical form of words which men have used before, but in expressions adapted to the feelings. It comes forth also warm from the heart. It comes after a solemn, silent, pause, and it becomes therefore, under all these circumstances, an act of real solemnity and genuine devotion.

It is astonishing how little even men of acknowledged piety seem to have their minds fixed upon the ideas contained in the mechanical graces they repeat. I was one afternoon at a friends house, where there happened to be a clergyman of the Scottish church. He was a man deservedly esteemed for his piety. The company was large. Politics had been discussed some time, when the tea-things were introduced. While the bread and butter were bringing in, the clergyman, who had taken an active part in the discussion, put a question to a gentleman, who was sitting in a corner of the room. The gentleman began to reply, and was proceeding in his answer, when of a sudden I heard a solemn voice. Being surprised, I looked round, and found it was the clergyman, who had suddenly started up, and was saying grace. The solemnity, with which he spoke, occasioned his voice to differ so much from its ordinary tone, that I did not, till I had looked about me, discover who the speaker was. I think he might be engaged from three or four minutes in the delivery of this grace. I could not help thinking, during the delivery of it, that I never knew any person say grace like this man. Nor was I ever so much moved with any grace, or thought I ever saw so dearly the propriety of saying grace, as on this occasion. But when I found that on the very instant the grace was over politics were resumed; when I found that, no sooner had the last word in the grace been pronounced, than the next, which came from the clergyman himself, began by desiring the gentleman before mentioned to go on with his reply to his own political question, I was so struck with the inconsistency of the thing, that the beauty and solemnity of his grace all vanished. This sudden transition from politics to grace, and from grace to politics, afforded a proof that artificial sentences might be so frequently repeated, as to fail to re-excite their first impressions, or that certain expressions, which might have constituted devotional acts under devotional feeling, might relapse into heartless forms.

I should not wish, by the relation of this anecdote, to be understood as reflecting in the slightest manner on the practice of the Scottish church. I know well the general sobriety, diligence, piety and religious example of its ministers. I mentioned it merely to shew, that even where the religious character of a person was high, his mind, by the frequent repetition of the same forms of expression on the same occasions, might frequently lose sight of the meaning and force of the words as they were uttered, so that he might pronounce them without that spiritual feeling, which can alone constitute a religious exercise.