QUAKER STRONGHOLDS
BY
CAROLINE EMELIA STEPHEN
AUTHOR OF “THE SERVICE OF THE POOR”
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY LONGSTRETH, 740 SANSOM STREET
1891
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
Introduction 1
I. Organization 6
II. The Inner Light 20
III. Worship 51
IV. Free Ministry 91
V. Special Testimonies 118
VI. Our Calling 157
Appendix 199
QUAKER STRONGHOLDS.
INTRODUCTION.
Whether Quakerism be, as some Friends believe, destined to any
considerable revival or not, it seems at least certain that any
important revival of religion must be the result of a fresh recognition
and acceptance of the very principles upon which the Society of Friends
is built. What these principles and the practices resulting from them
really are, is a subject on which there is a surprising amount of
ignorance amongst us, considering how widely spread is the connection
with and interest about Friends amongst the members of other
persuasions. One seldom meets any one who has not some link with the
Society, and yet it is rare to find any one not belonging to it at all
accurately informed as to its point of view or its organization. The
notorious disinclination of Friends to any attempts at proselytizing,
and perhaps some lingering effects of persecution, probably account for
the very common impression that Friends’ meetings are essentially
private—mysterious gatherings into which it would be intrusive to seek
admission. Many people, indeed, probably suppose (if they think about it
at all) that such meetings are no longer held; that the Society is fast
dying out, and the “silent worship” of tradition is a thing of the
past—impracticable, and hardly to be seriously mentioned in these days
of talk and of breathless activity.
Some such vague impression floated, I believe, over my own mind, when,
some seventeen years ago, I first found myself within reach of a
Friends’ meeting, and, somewhat to my surprise, cordially made welcome
to attend it. The invitation came at a moment of need, for I was
beginning to feel with dismay that I might not much longer be able
conscientiously to continue to join in the Church of England service;
not for want of appreciation of its unrivalled richness and beauty, but
from doubts of the truth of its doctrines, combined with a growing
recognition that to me it was as the armour of Saul in its elaboration
and in the sustained pitch of religious fervour for which it was meant
to provide an utterance. Whether true or not in its speculative and
theoretical assumptions, it was clear to me that it was far from true as
a periodical expression of my own experience, belief, or aspiration. The
more vividly one feels the force of its eloquence, the more, it seems to
me, one must hesitate to adopt it as the language of one’s own soul, and
the more unlikely it is that such heights and depths of feeling as it
demands should be ready to fill its magnificent channels every Sunday
morning at a given hour. The questionings with which at that period I
was painfully struggling were stirred into redoubled activity by the
dogmatic statements and assumptions with which the Liturgy abounds, and
its unbroken flow left no loophole for the utterance of my own less
disciplined, but to myself far more urgent, cries for help. Thus the
hour of public worship, which should have been a time of spiritual
strengthening and calming, became to me a time of renewed conflict, and
of occasional exaltation and excitement of emotion, leading but too
surely to reaction and apathy.
I do not attempt to pass any judgment on this mental condition. I have
described it at some length because I cannot believe it to be altogether
exceptional, or without significance. At any rate, it was fast leading
me to dread the moment when I should be unable either to find the help I
needed, or to offer my tribute of devotion in any place of worship
amongst my fellow-Christians. When lo, on one never-to-be-forgotten
Sunday morning, I found myself one of a small company of silent
worshippers, who were content to sit down together without words, that
each one might feel after and draw near to the Divine Presence,
unhindered at least, if not helped, by any human utterance. Utterance I
knew was free, should the words be given; and before the meeting was
over, a sentence or two were uttered in great simplicity by an old and
apparently untaught man, rising in his place amongst the rest of us. I
did not pay much attention to the words he spoke, and I have no
recollection of their purport. My whole soul was filled with the
unutterable peace of the undisturbed opportunity for communion with God,
with the sense that at last I had found a place where I might, without
the faintest suspicion of insincerity, join with others in simply
seeking His presence. To sit down in silence could at the least pledge
me to nothing; it might open to me (as it did that morning) the very
gate of heaven. And since that day, now more than seventeen years ago,
Friends’ meetings have indeed been to me the greatest of outward helps
to a fuller and fuller entrance into the spirit from which they have
sprung; the place of the most soul-subduing, faith-restoring,
strengthening, and peaceful communion, in feeding upon the bread of
life, that I have ever known. I cannot but believe that what has helped
me so unspeakably might be helpful to multitudes in this day of shaking
of all that can be shaken, and of restless inquiry after spiritual good.
It is in the hope of making more widely known the true source and nature
of such spiritual help that I am about to attempt to describe what I
have called our strongholds—those principles which cannot fail, whatever
may be the future of the Society which for more than two hundred years
has taken its stand upon them. I wish to trace, as far as my experience
as a “convinced Friend” enables me to do so, what is the true life and
strength of our Society; and the manner in which its principles, as
actually embodied in its practice, its organization, and, above all, its
manner of worship, are fitted to meet the special needs of an important
class in our own day.
Mount Pleasant,
West Malvern, 1890.
CHAPTER I.
ORGANIZATION.
The actual organization of the Society of Friends is, I believe, by no
means familiarly known outside its own borders, and a slight sketch of
it may be neither uninteresting in itself, nor out of place as a
preliminary to the endeavour to explain our general position. I propose,
therefore, to give such an outline of our constitution as a Society, so
far as I have become acquainted with it. The fullest details respecting
it are to be found in the “Book of Discipline,” which is the authorized
exponent of all such matters.
This book has been recently revised, and the edition of 1883[1] (a large
octavo volume) contains the latest regulations on all points of internal
government. The Yearly Meeting also publishes annually a volume of
Extracts from its proceedings, a full statement of accounts and
statistics, and a summary of the reports received from the subordinate
meetings all over the country.
Every “particular meeting,” that is, every congregation meeting
habitually for worship on the first (and generally also on one other)
day of the week, is one of a group of meetings for worship (usually
about five or six), which meet together once a month, for the
transaction of business and of discipline, and which together form what
is therefore called a Monthly Meeting. Each Monthly Meeting, again, is
one of a group of probably four or five Monthly Meetings, which in like
manner unite to form a Quarterly Meeting, at whose quarterly sittings
matters of larger importance are considered, and the eighteen Quarterly
Meetings of Great Britain form in their turn the London Yearly Meeting,
which is the supreme authority in the Society. It may in a certain sense
be said, indeed, that it _is_ the Society of Friends of Great Britain,
for every Friend is a member of the Monthly, Quarterly, and Yearly
Meetings to which he or she belongs, and is entitled to a voice in all
their deliberations. The Yearly Meeting assembles in May, and its
sittings, which are held, as they have been from the first, in
Devonshire House, Bishopsgate Street, last generally about a fortnight.
The actual attendance is, of course, small in comparison with the number
of members. At the present time the Society in Great Britain consists of
about fifteen thousand members, and the annual gatherings in Bishopsgate
Street number perhaps from twelve to fifteen hundred.
The men and women sit separately, or it would perhaps be more correct to
say that the men and the women Friends have each a separate Yearly
Meeting; the women’s Yearly Meeting being of considerably later date
than the men’s. It was established in 1790, and it deals in general with
matters of less importance, or at any rate of more restricted scope,
than the men’s meeting. It is, however, not unusual for men Friends,
“under religious concern,” to visit the women’s meeting, nor for women
Friends on a similar ground to visit that of the men.
“Joint sittings”—meetings, that is, of men and women Friends in one
body—are also held occasionally, when any question of special interest
to all the members is to be considered, and on these occasions the women
are free to take their full share in the discussions. These occasional
combinations are the more easily practicable, because, strange as it may
seem to most people, no question is ever put to the vote. From the
earliest times, all decisions have been arrived at by what may be called
a practical unanimity. The Yearly Meeting, like every other meeting for
“business” or “discipline,” has its clerk, who, with one or more
assistants, performs the combined functions of chairman and secretary.
When any question has been fully considered, it is the duty of the clerk
to interpret the sense of the meeting, and to prepare a minute
accordingly; which minute, being read to the meeting, often receives a
certain amount of verbal, or even of substantial modification, in
accordance with the suggestions of individual Friends; but, when entered
upon the books, is accepted as embodying the decision of the meeting.
Should there be any considerable division of judgment upon any important
question, it is usually, if possible, adjourned till the next Yearly
Meeting; and this plan has, I believe, been almost invariably found
sufficient to bring about the practical unanimity required for a final
settlement of the question. It is certainly a very remarkable fact that
so large a body should transact all its affairs without ever voting, to
the full satisfaction of the great majority of those concerned.
The Quarterly and Monthly Meetings are, in most respects, repetitions on
a smaller scale of the Yearly Meeting. The business of all these
subordinate meetings is transacted, like that of the Yearly Meeting,
without voting, and settled similarly through the action of the clerk
when a practical unanimity is arrived at. Each Monthly Meeting appoints
“representatives” to the next Quarterly Meeting, and the Quarterly
Meetings in like manner appoint “representatives” to the Yearly Meeting.
These Friends have no very definite function to perform, but their names
are called over, and their presence or absence noted at the opening of
each meeting to which they are sent; and they are expected to serve in a
general way as a special medium of communication between the larger and
the smaller meetings to which they belong.
In like manner, upon any subject affecting the Society at large, the
Yearly Meeting communicates with the Quarterly Meetings, who in their
turn diffuse the impulse through their own Monthly and particular
meetings, till it reaches every individual member; and, in return,
information respecting every meeting for worship is from time to time
given to the Monthly Meetings, to be by them in a condensed form
reported to the Quarterly Meetings, and so eventually presented to the
Yearly Meeting in London. All these ascending and descending processes
are carried on with minute accuracy and regularity, and are duly
recorded at every stage in the books of each meeting. There is thus a
complete system of circulation, as of veins and arteries, by which every
individual member is brought within reach of the Society at large, and
through which information, influence, and discipline are carried to and
from the centre and the extremities.
The “discipline” of the Society is a matter of extreme interest, as to
which I cannot venture to say with any confidence how far our recognized
ideal is actually carried out in practice. There is no doubt that of
late years considerable changes have taken place, mainly in the
direction of a relaxation of discipline with regard to comparatively
trivial matters. Certain “queries” have from the earliest times been
appointed by the authority of the Yearly Meeting, to be read and
considered at certain seasons in the subordinate meetings, and to most
of these queries (some relating to various branches of Christian
morality, and some to regularity in attendance at meetings and
conformity to established standards of simplicity in dress and language)
it was formerly the practice to require detailed answers from each
particular meeting, to be in due course transmitted in a summarized form
to the Yearly Meeting itself. In 1861, however, the Yearly Meeting
issued directions that a certain number of these queries should be
merely “considered,” but not answered. In 1875 this method was adopted
with regard to nearly all the queries, and at present those only which
relate to the regularity of attendance at meetings for worship and
business are answered.[2] This change has a very obvious significance,
and I believe that its effect is even more marked than would be
understood by any one not accustomed to the extreme care and gravity
with which these matters were formerly pondered and reported upon in
each “preparative meeting” (_i.e._ each particular meeting sitting
specially with a view to preparing the business to be transacted at any
approaching Monthly Meeting), and again at each stage of the progress of
the report towards its final presentation by the Quarterly to the Yearly
Meeting. Dress and language and other external matters are now
practically left entirely to the individual conscience, as is surely
wisest. With regard to weightier matters, such as strict integrity in
business, sobriety, and correctness of moral conduct, etc., there is
still, I hope and believe, a considerable reality of watchful care
exercised through specially appointed members. In every Monthly Meeting
there are Friends holding the offices of elder and overseer. The
business of the elders is to watch over the ministers in the exercise of
their gift; that of the overseers to see to the relief of the poorer
members, the care of the sick, and other such matters; to watch over the
members generally with regard to their Christian conduct, to warn
privately any who may be giving cause of offence or scandal, and in case
of need to bring the matter before the Monthly Meeting, to be dealt with
as it may require. Should the Monthly Meeting think it necessary to
disown a member for persisting in conduct not consistent with our
Christian profession, or for any other reason, the member in question
may appeal to the Quarterly Meeting, and from its decision to that of
the Yearly Meeting, which is in all cases final.
The London Yearly Meeting has two standing committees for the
transaction of such of its affairs as need attention more frequently
than once a year. One of these represents the Yearly Meeting at large,
and has charge of its money matters and other general business; it bears
the curious and suggestive title of the “Meeting for Sufferings,” from
having been originally occupied mainly in relieving Friends under
persecution. The other is a committee of the Yearly Meeting on Ministry
and Oversight, and is called the “Morning Meeting.”
Meetings on Ministry and Oversight are held in every Quarterly and
Monthly Meeting as well as at the Yearly Meeting. They are composed of
all the recorded ministers, the elders and overseers of each meeting,
together with (in some Quarterly Meetings) some Friends described as
associate members, who attend them as it were not officially, but by a
standing invitation. These meetings are concerned, of course, with
questions relating to the special offices exercised by their members.
The ministers are, as is well known, not appointed or set apart by any
human ordination, nor are any of them ever paid, or liable to be called
upon by any human authority, for any ministerial services. By the word
“ministers” we mean simply those, be they men or women, who have
received a gift and call to minister, that is to offer vocal service, in
meetings for worship. When any Friend has exercised such a gift for a
considerable time, in a manner which is recognized by the other members
as evincing a true vocation, the Monthly Meeting proceeds to record the
fact on the books of the meeting. This acknowledgment is made merely for
the sake of “good order,” and is not supposed to confer any additional
power or authority on the minister “recorded.” The ministers are
perfectly free to continue their ordinary occupations, and many of them
are, in fact, engaged in earning their own living in trades, business,
or professions.
When a minister, in the exercise of his or her gift, feels called to
travel to any distant place, it is thought right that the “concern”
should be laid before the Monthly Meeting, and, should it be an
important or distant concern, before the Quarterly and, in some cases,
even the Yearly Meeting also; when the meetings in question will, if
they feel “unity” with it, give the minister a minute or certificate to
that effect, which serves as an introduction and guarantee in whatever
meetings the minister may visit during that “service.” In such cases the
ministers’ travelling expenses are paid from one Monthly or Quarterly
Meeting to another, and it is usual for them to be welcomed into the
houses of some of the Friends belonging to the meetings visited. The
extent to which Friends do thus travel, both in England and abroad, “in
the service of Truth,” is something of which few people outside the
Society have any idea. Between England and America there is a continual
interchange of such visits, and the very copious biographical literature
of the Society teems with the records of journeys undertaken “under an
impression of religious duty,” and lasting sometimes for months, or even
years, before the Friend could “feel clear” of the work. No limit is
ever set beforehand to such work. It is felt to be work in which the
daily unfolding of the Divine ordering must be watched and waited for.
Such is a general outline of what may be called the machinery of the
Society. It remains to state briefly its distinguishing tenets before
proceeding to consider the spirit and inner spring from which these
outward developments have arisen, and from which they derive all their
significance and value.
I have already referred to the peculiarity which lies at the root of all
the rest; namely, our views as to the nature of the true gospel
ministry, as a call bestowed on men and women, on old and young, learned
and unlearned; bestowed directly from above, and not to be conferred by
any human authority, or hired for money; to be exercised under the sole
and immediate direction of the one Master, the only Head of the Church,
Christ the Lord. As a consequence of this view, Friends have, as is well
known, refused as a matter of conscience to pay tithes, or in any way to
contribute to the maintenance of a paid ministry, and of the services
prescribed by the Established Church.
Closely connected with these views on ministry, is our testimony against
the observance of any religious rites or ceremonies whatever. Neither
baptizing with water, nor the breaking of bread and drinking of wine,
are recognized by us as Divinely ordained institutions of permanent
obligation, and neither of these ceremonies is practised by us. We
believe that the coming of Christ put an end to the old dispensation of
outward observances, and that the whole drift of His teaching was
against the attaching of importance to such things. The passages
relating to His last supper with His disciples, and those in which He
speaks of His permanent influence upon them under the images of bread,
blood, etc., seem to us much more intelligible and impressive when
understood without reference to the sacramental theories which have been
engrafted upon them. The one baptism “with the Holy Ghost and with
fire,” and the continual spiritual communion to be enjoyed in feeding on
the bread of life, are felt by us to be of the very essence of true and
spiritual worship; but we believe them to be entirely independent of any
outward observances. We therefore feel that no other condition is needed
for the highest acts of worship than the presence and the right
spiritual disposition of the worshippers.
The rejection of any separate priesthood, and of all outward
observances, is the main divergence between us and other Christians. We
have always maintained a testimony against war as inconsistent with the
full acceptance of the spirit of Christ, and against oaths as distinctly
forbidden by Him. We have also been led to abandon the pursuit of
changing fashions, and to cherish a plainness in dress and language of a
marked character, now fast changing its type, but not, we trust, really
disappearing. These minor testimonies are probably more widely known
than the more fundamental ones; and though concerned with comparatively
trivial matters, they also spring from a deep root of principle. It is a
remarkable fact that from time to time religious bodies have sprung up
in various parts of the world who, without any communication with us,
have adopted similar views on many, if not all, of these points. This
fact, as well as the continuance and the widely spread influence of our
own Society, seems to show that its roots lie deep in some fundamental
principles of truth.
I am now about to attempt to deal with those principles, not in the way
of analysis or with any attempt at precision of language, but as a
record of their practical working, as gathered mainly from personal
experience. It is not, I confess, without some anxiety that I, as a
new-comer, enter upon this task. In the preceding sketch of matters of
fact, it has of course been easy to guard against any serious
misstatements; but in the following chapters I must deal with matters
less easily verifiable. It seems to me in some respects hardly possible
that any one not born and bred in the Society should be fully qualified
to unfold its principles and practices. There is, on the other hand, in
the very fact of having entered it from without, a special qualification
for the office of interpreting them to outsiders. It will, I hope, be
remembered that I have no kind of claim to speak in any sense in the
name of the Society. My object is to explain (so far as the experience
of ten years’ membership may enable me) the secret of its strength and
of its attraction for others; and for this attempt one brought up
outside its pale, and speaking in a purely individual capacity, may well
feel a special freedom. If I cannot pretend to possess the entirely
correct accent of a born Friend, I may be none the less intelligible to
those amongst whom my own Christian principles were imbibed and
nourished until the years of maturity.