OUR CALLING.
I have endeavoured to explain what are those principles and practices
into which we as a body have been led through what we believe to be
obedience to the Spirit of Truth. I know that in some respects we seem
to our fellow-Christians to have mistaken the voice of our Guide, and to
be, through ignorance perhaps, but yet lamentably, excluding ourselves
from the most precious privileges, if not consciously disregarding the
most sacred injunctions. It is a very solemn question upon which we thus
join issue with almost all the Churches of Christendom;—What is, in
fact, essential Christianity?
“By their fruits ye shall know them.” It would ill become me to attempt
any estimate of the fruitfulness of that branch of the Christian Church
which I have joined as compared with the branch of it in which I was
brought up. I have been occupied throughout with our ideal, not with the
degree of our fulfilment or failure to fulfil it. I feel bound, however,
to say that I cannot reconcile the fact of the signs of life and
spiritual energy which I find within as well as without the Society with
the idea that either branch of the Church is really cut off from the
root of the living Vine. Does it follow that our peculiar principles and
practices are of no consequence?
I cannot myself believe that this is a legitimate conclusion from the
admitted fact that undeniably holy and Christian lives are led within as
well as without our borders. That fact does, I think, show at least that
everything does not depend either upon the observance or the disuse of
outward ordinances—it shows that either course may be pursued in good
faith and without destruction to the Christian life; but it is not
inconsistent with the belief that results of profound importance to the
character of our Christianity are involved in this question of
ordinances and orders, and that it therefore behoves us to seek the
utmost clearness with regard to it.
This question is the very key of the position of the Society of Friends
as a separate body. It is as witnesses to the independence of spiritual
life upon outward ordinances that we believe ourselves especially called
to maintain our place in the universal Church in the present day.
The importance of our separate position is perhaps somewhat obscured in
the eyes of some amongst us by the fact that we can no longer assume the
vehemently aggressive attitude of the early Friends, as against
Christians of other denominations. They believed it to be their duty to
attack the “hireling priests” of their day as guilty of “apostasy,” and
upholders of the mysterious powers of darkness. In our own day such
judgments would imply either the grossest ignorance or else downright
insanity. We cannot help knowing, and rejoicing to know, that a large
proportion of the clergy are amongst the most devoted and disinterested
of the children of light, using their official position, as well as
every other power of body and mind, for the promotion of the kingdom of
God and the spread of the gospel. We desire nothing better than to fight
beside them, shoulder to shoulder, against the common enemy; and we are,
in fact, often associated with them in efforts of this kind.
In like manner, it would be impossible for Friends in these days to
speak in the tone of the founders of the Society, as though we possessed
a degree of light in comparison of which all other Christians must be
considered as groping in thick darkness. The early Friends sometimes
spoke of the “breaking forth of the gospel day” through the revelation
made to them as of an event almost equal in importance to its original
promulgation sixteen hundred years before. In these days we could not
with any kind of honesty or justice claim a position so enormously in
advance of our neighbours. On all hands we see evidences of fidelity and
fruitfulness, and the shining of examples which we rejoice to admire,
and desire to emulate.
There is thus, I think, a certain perplexity as to our relative position
in the Christian Church which is a cause of some weakness amongst
Friends. It is in some respects easier to maintain an aggressive
attitude than one of mere quiet separateness; and it would be no wonder
if some, especially of our younger members, in these days of free
interchange of sympathy, should begin to falter a little as to the
importance of our separate position. It is, indeed, one which will not
be maintained except as the result of deep and searching spiritual
discipline. The testimony against dependence on what is outward cannot
be borne to any purpose at second hand. We must ourselves be weaned from
all hankering after what is outward and tangible before we can
appreciate the value of a testimony to the sufficiency of the purely
spiritual; and that weaning is not an easy process, nor one that can be
transmitted from generation to generation. Unless our younger Friends be
taught in the same stern school as their forefathers, they will
assuredly not maintain the vantage-ground won by the faithfulness of a
former generation.
Some other causes have, I believe, tended to confuse our relation to the
outer world, and make it important that Friends should look well to
their path, and consider whither it is tending; whether we are really
guarding the position which it is specially our business to defend, or
allowing ourselves to be drawn off into the pursuit of less important
matters. There are in the main stream of the Society many currents and
counter-currents, and its recent history has been one of change and
reaction, so that it would be dangerous and presumptuous for a new-comer
to attempt to foretell its course; but I may venture to point out some
of the tendencies which are and have been at work amongst us, preparing
the conditions under which our future work must be done.
It is well known that the Society, which sprang very rapidly into
existence in the middle of the seventeenth century, began during the
eighteenth to diminish in numbers, and was for many years a steadily
dwindling body. Closed meeting-houses and empty benches are now to be
found in all parts of the country where, in former days, the difficulty
was to find room for all who came. Within the last thirty or forty years
our numbers have, however, begun slowly to increase, although the
increase is so far from being equal to the rate of increase of the
population at large, that in proportion to other denominations we may
still be considered as in a certain sense losing ground. The actual
increase, small as it is, is nevertheless a significant fact.[25]
The great falling-off in numbers during the eighteenth and part of the
nineteenth centuries was probably caused, in part at least, by the fact
that after the early days of growth and persecution there followed a
time of outward quietness, in which the value attached to what one may
call Quaker tradition became excessive, and resulted in too rigid a
discipline. The actual discipline of the Society was applied with a
strictness which surely was not altogether wise or wholesome; and the
less tangible restraint of public opinion within the borders of a small
and very exclusive sect was probably even more oppressive in its
rigidity and minuteness of supervision. Until within the last thirty
years or thereabouts, it was the almost invariable practice to disown
all members who married “out of the Society;” and this restriction must
obviously have done much not only to diminish the numbers, but probably
also to alienate the affections of successive rising generations. So
many of the young people lost or resigned their membership for this and
other causes, that, had no change taken place, the days of the Society
must to all appearance have been numbered.
But in the early part of this century, owing, in a great measure, to the
influence of Joseph John Gurney and his sister, Elizabeth Fry, a new
wave of religious and benevolent activity arose; and about the same
time, though with what degree of connection with this impulse I do not
know, a considerable relaxation of discipline took place. Not only was
the practice with regard to marriages out of the Society relaxed, but
many minor matters, in which an irksome and, no doubt, often hurtful
rigidity had prevailed, began to be deliberately left to the judgment of
individuals. In 1861 a revision of the “Book of Discipline” took place,
which reflected and sanctioned the relaxation of supervision in regard
to these matters. In that year the latter part of the fourth query
relating to “plainness of speech, behaviour, and apparel,” was dropped,
and other changes were made in the queries then in use. The Yearly
Meeting, as has been already mentioned, no longer requires that any of
the queries should be answered, except those which regard the regularity
with which meetings are held and attended. These changes have meant in
practice that the maintenance of all our special “testimonies” is now
(like that against tithes) “left to the individual conscience,” and not
inquired into by the meetings for discipline; and the immediate result
has, of course, been a great outward and visible alteration—a rapid
disappearance of distinguishing peculiarities, and no doubt an immense
relief to the younger members.
A more direct result of the “evangelical” influence of the Gurneys, and
others like-minded, was the setting-in of a current of activity in all
sorts of benevolent, philanthropic, and missionary directions. The old
dread of “creaturely activity,”—of moving in any kind of religious work
without an immediate prompting and even constraining influence from
above,—seems to have in some degree given place to a fear of burying our
talent. The Christian duty of going forth to seek and to save, of
holding forth the word of life, and letting our light shine before men,
had been beautifully exemplified by some eminent men and women in the
Society. Many of the younger Friends caught the flame of their zeal, and
from all quarters, in these modern days, influences combine to make that
“sitting still,” in which an earlier generation of Friends had found
their strength, appear almost an impossibility.
With the new rising tide of fervent zeal and benevolence came a great
change in the prevailing tone of religious feeling. The Bible, which, in
their dread lest the letter should usurp the place of the spirit, had
amongst Friends been almost put under a bushel, was brought into new
prominence, and so-called “evangelical” views respecting the unique or
exceptional nature of its inspiration began to be entertained. Gradually
the idea of the necessity of teaching “sound doctrine” assumed an
importance which had formerly been reserved for that of looking for
“right guidance;” and in some quarters a visible tendency has, of late
years, been manifest towards more definition of doctrines and
popularizing of methods than would have been tolerated half a century
ago.[26]
Although these modern tendencies have undoubtedly been accompanied by,
and have probably in some degree led to, an increase in our numbers, a
strong protest has from time to time been raised against them by those
who feel that Quakerism had its root and its strength in a deep inward
and spiritual experience which frees from all dependence upon outward
things. In America the protest against (or, as those who protest would
no doubt rather say, the introduction of) this modern phase of
comparatively superficial religious activity has caused grievous schisms
and troubles. About the year 1826, a large party, under the leadership
of one Elias Hicks, in that country broke off altogether from the main
body of Friends, and is suspected by the “orthodox” of having, under
professed obedience to the inner light, become practically a Unitarian
or rationalist body. In England, however, the two main currents have
flowed side by side, and have not resulted in any considerable division
of the stream.
Both parties claim to be taking their stand upon the original principles
of the early Friends. Those who uphold above all things the doctrine of
the inner light, and the primary necessity of immediate inspiration and
guidance to the bringing forth of any good word or work, and especially
to the performance of any acceptable worship, have abundant evidence to
produce, in the writings of Fox, Barclay, Penn, Penington, and other
fathers of the Society, that this was the foundation and the constant
burden of all their teaching. Those, on the other hand, who are throwing
themselves heart and soul into missionary and “evangelistic” efforts,
say truly enough that the early Friends did not so “wait for guidance”
as to be content to sit still and make no effort to lighten the darkness
around them, and that it was the intermediate or “mediæval,” not the
“primitive” teaching of the Society which exalted the individual
consciousness into the supreme authority, thus developing, in fact, a
claim to something approaching personal infallibility.
There are, of course, dangers in either extreme—in the over-valuation of
visible and tangible activity, and in the undue intensity of
introspective quietism. Too much “inwardness” seems to develop an
extraordinary bitterness and spirit of judgment, under the shadow of
which no fresh growth would be possible. It is obviously dangerous to
sanity. Too much “outwardness” dilutes and destroys the very essence of
our testimony, encourages a worthless growth of human dependence, and
can hardly fail to be dangerous to sincerity. But yet the divergence is,
I believe, a case rather of diversity of gifts and functions than of
contradiction in principle. Both functions are surely needed. Where a
living fountain is really springing up within, it must needs tend to
overflow. The leaves and blossoms are as essential to the health and
fruitfulness of a tree as its root. The secret, as I believe, of the
strength of our Society, its peculiar qualification for service in these
days, lies in its strong grasp of the oneness of the inward and the
outward, as well as in the deep and pure spirituality of its aim in
regard to both.
There is, I believe and am sure, a special and urgent need in these days
for that witness to the light—light both within and without—which was
the special office of early Quakerism. I am not equally sure that
Quakerism, as it is, is the vehicle best adapted to convey that
testimony to the present generation. If it be not so, it is largely the
fault of our degeneracy as a body; of the lapse of our Society into a
rigid formalism during the eighteenth century, and into a shallow
seeking for popularity in the nineteenth. But, in spite of all such
right-hand and left-hand defections it seems to me that there is life
enough yet in the old tree for a fresh growth of fruit-bearing branches.
It seems to me that the framework of the Society has vigour and
elasticity enough yet to be used as an invaluable instrument by a new
generation of fully convinced Friends, were our younger members but
fully willing and resolved to submit to the necessary Divine discipline.
It is no new wave of “creaturely activity,” no judicious adapting of
Quakerism to modern tastes, that will revive its power in the midst of
the present generation. It is a fresh breaking forth of the old power,
the unchanging and unchangeable power of light and truth itself, met and
invited by a fresh submission of heart in each one of us, which can
alone invigorate what is languishing amongst us, and make us more than
ever a blessing to the nation.
Had this power ever wholly disappeared from amongst us, there would be
little use in dwelling fondly upon its deserted tenement. It is because
a measure of the ancient spirit is still to be recognized amongst our
now widely scattered remnant that I would fain stir it up, amongst our
own members especially, and if possible also amongst others, by means of
the experience actually acquired by our Society of the power of an
exclusively spiritual religion.
It is, I hope, hardly necessary to repeat that it is not Quakerism, but
Truth, that I desire to serve and to promote; the sect may no longer be
what is needed, and may be destined to extinction, for aught I know. But
that view of Truth which has found in Quakerism its most emphatic
assertion,—that purely spiritual worship and that supremacy of the light
within which were set forth with power by Fox and Barclay and
Penington,—these things are of perennial value and efficacy, and the
need for their fresh recognition seems to be in our own day peculiarly
urgent.
There can, indeed, be no rivalry between inward and outward light.
Light, we know, is one, and there can be no contradiction between its
various manifestations, although there may, of course, be any amount of
contradiction between the respective visions of different people. It
seems, indeed, as idle to look for an absolutely colourless medium
within as without, in our own hearts as in the Bible or the Church; and
upon each one lies the responsibility of accepting correction from all
quarters. Yet for each one of us there must be a final authority; and I
do not see how that authority can be found elsewhere than in the inmost
chamber of our own hearts, for it is by that authority alone that we can
be justified even in choosing any external guide. It is, indeed,
impossible for any one who recognizes the shining of light within to
doubt its supreme authority.
To speak of light shining in one’s own heart as something not conclusive
for oneself would be almost a contradiction in terms. But just because
it _is_ within one’s own heart, its range is strictly limited. My inner
light can be no rule (though in a sense it may be as a lamp) for any one
else, for the very reason which forbids me to dispute it. Each one
surely owes an exclusive allegiance to that ray of Divine light which
shines straight into his own inmost sanctuary.
It is, therefore, no disloyalty to the light within to acknowledge the
need of an outward standard for purposes of united action or mutual
judgment, or to accept an outward test of the reality of our possession
of inward light. Those who have learnt to recognize in the light within
the radiance of the Divine Word will acknowledge no lower voice as the
supreme authority without; and will accept no other test of its reality
than that assigned by Christ Himself—righteousness of life.
Friends have always without hesitation accepted the Bible as the one
common standard by which their practice and their teaching should be
tried,[27] and have acknowledged from the first that no claim to Divine
inspiration could be justified except by the actual possession of the
righteousness taught by Christ Himself in word and in deed—a
righteousness “exceeding that of the scribes and Pharisees.”
And here we come upon the fact, not always sufficiently remembered, that
the indispensable words “inward” and “outward” need care in the
handling. It is of great importance to my whole subject that the
different senses in which they may be applied should be kept in mind. I
have already[28] pointed out that the mystical meaning of “within” or
“inwardness” is not the only one upon which we insist.
This well-known Quaker watchword must always be understood as asserting
not only that light is to be found by retiring into the inmost chamber
of one’s own heart, but also that it is intrinsic, essential, original;
that, coming from within, it must, if real, illuminate the whole being.
Righteousness, the fruit and result of obedience to light, is in this
sense both inward and outward; it is external, but not extraneous;
outward in the sense of being visible, tangible, open to the light of
day—a thing which, however it may be defined or accounted for, is
universally recognizable, and is acknowledged by all as justifying the
teaching which produces it; it is not outward in the sense of coming
from without, or of being in any degree arbitrary, or accidental, or
dependent upon the judgment of our fellow-creatures; it is a natural,
not an artificial, test and result of the inward state. Neither is it
outward in the sense of appertaining only to what is visible. It does,
indeed, impress its stamp even upon the very frame, and of course it
consists largely in a visible and real dominion of the mind over the
body; but it is, in its origin and essence, of the spirit, not of the
flesh.
It was the constant and vigorous seeking for and application of this
test of righteousness which distinguished the early Friends from mere
mystics. Those “Friends of the Light” were not content to brood over a
light shut in to their own hearts. They let it shine freely before men,
boldly proclaiming its universality, and calling all men to walk in it.
They stoutly claimed that it was the light of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
the very Sun of Righteousness, and that the light, spirit, and grace of
Christ in their own hearts was one with the spirit in which the
Scriptures were given forth. Above all, they insisted that the light was
the Spirit of Truth, and must lead into all truth; not into omniscience
or infallibility, but into truth in the inmost parts—truth in word, in
thought, and in deed. Thus they recognized the great truth that the
light within and the light without are alike aspects of the Eternal Word
of God—that Word which, abiding in us, is our Eternal Life.
Light within—not the vision of the mystic alone, but cleanness of heart,
uprightness, sincerity, singleness of mind—of this light they affirmed
that every living soul had some germ, which, as it was attended to,
would lead out of the evil it condemned. And the glory of their teaching
was that it summoned each human spirit to work out its own salvation—in
fear and in trembling truly, and in the strength of God working with and
in it, but without dependence on any human being, or on anything
perishable, or disputable, or accidental; to repent, and to bring forth
fruits meet for repentance; to walk soberly, as children of the day.
This is what I mean by the pure spirituality of the _aim_ of Friends
both as to the inward and the outward. The inner light they desire to
walk in is not an intellectual but a purifying light; it consists not in
rapture, ecstasy, sensation, but in clear insight into the deepest kind
of truth; it leads not to knowledge, but to holiness,—which is, indeed,
knowledge of the truth. It shines in quietness; and in order to cherish
it we must lay aside our preoccupation with the vivid and clamorous and
transitory things that are without, dwelling in stillness upon what is
eternal, that all things may be revealed in their true proportions. It
courts and acknowledges an outward test; but that test consists in the
quality of its own outward results, as commending themselves to every
man’s conscience, and reveals itself not in a conformity to other
people’s teaching, but in a transforming power. The outward stamp we
value is not a stamp or sign applied or administered from without and by
material means, but the outward and visible radiance of the flame
kindled within. The supremacy of the inner light as recognized by us is
the supremacy of the fountain over the stream, and the cleanness and
cleansing power of the stream is the proof of the purity of the
fountain. It is in fixing attention upon moral and spiritual results,
rather than upon precision of doctrine or correctness of ceremonial
observance, that Friends have, I believe, hit the right nail on the
head. In our own day, as in George Fox’s day, this direct appeal to
conscience is surely the one unfailing means by which men and women can
be “turned to the light,” brought to recognize Him who is the Light, and
taught to find in Him their everlasting rest—the rest which is the
beginning of power and of victory.
If we be right in our belief that the salvation of Jesus Christ is a
purely spiritual influence, a flame which finds in every human heart
some prepared fuel, and which is to be spread from heart to heart as
fire is kindled from torch to torch; which is to be maintained not by
rites and ceremonies, and “the apostolical succession” of outward
ordination, but by that turning from dead works to serve the living God
which is in the power of every living soul, and which no one can perform
for another;—if this view be true, then Friends have yet a great work to
do in promulgating it, and a great responsibility in having received it
as an inheritance.
For this is not yet the commonly accepted view. The Christianity which
has spread and flourished is still deeply saturated with reliance upon
outward rites and outward ordinances, and deeply entangled with rigid
formularies. It is largely composed of creeds and doctrines, which,
whether theoretically true or false, are yet capable of being held in
unrighteousness, and incapable, therefore, of truly redeeming the souls
who trust in them.
Most Christians say or assume that these things are vitally helpful to
them. I dare not presume to say that they are wrong, though I own that I
think the assumption too conventional to be conclusive. But of one thing
I am quite sure. There is a great and increasing multitude amongst us
who cannot accept outward rites or clerical teaching. We see by the
experience of Roman Catholic countries how inevitably the spread of
priestly influence amongst devout women is accompanied by the utter
alienation of thinking men from religion itself. I fear that a tendency
of the same kind is visible in England now. What is the proportion of
men to women to be seen in the congregations of London churches? Is it
not obvious even to our outward senses that there is something in modern
Christianity which the masculine mind rejects? We have, indeed, abundant
proof in the literature of our day that this is the case. Are we driven
to conclude that it is the essence of the religion of Jesus Christ which
is rejected by masculine thought; or does the stumbling-block lie in
human additions to the teaching of Christ Himself?
I cannot doubt, and I believe few of the worthiest representatives of
masculine thought would deny that His own teaching, as we have it in the
Gospels, is eternal truth; as secure against every storm of doubt and
revolt as the sun in heaven is secure against the whirlwind. The
Christianity of Jesus Christ Himself is the Christianity upon which
Friends alone, or almost alone, have boldly taken their stand as
all-sufficient. In preaching this essential Christianity we can appeal
with boldness to the witness in every human heart; and I venture to say
that it is not a religion for women and children only, but one which
appeals to and fortifies the best instincts of manly independence.[29]
Let it not be supposed that I attribute the whole of the modern revolt
from religion to the engrafting of ecclesiastical “developments” upon
the simplicity which is in Christ. I know, of course, that many other
forces tend to alienate men (and women too) from God, and that there is
much in the progress of scientific discovery which it is difficult to
reconcile quickly with even the very essence of religion. It is because
the ship of faith is in danger that I long to see it lightened of
unnecessary burdens. It is because men are ready enough to cast from
them all thought of the things which belong to their peace, and to
abandon in despair the hope which alone can purify their lives, that I
long to see that hope disentangled from whatever is worn out and
cumbersome and unreasonable.
Quakerism in its origin was a bold and successful struggle to do this.
The glory of early Quakerism was in its integrity, in its
uncompromising, unflinching requirement that the life should bear
witness to the truth, and its resolute stand against any other
requirement. The “inner light” was not only a word of the deepest
poetical and mystical significance; it was a doctrine of sternest
righteousness, and at the same time an assertion of resolute
independence. Those who were conscious of the shining of Divine light
into their own hearts needed no priestly absolution or interposition.
They were willing to stand or fall by their innocence in the sight of
all men. Their very gaolers often trusted them to convey themselves to
their distant prisons if they had but promised. It was well known in
those early days that a Friend’s word was as good as his bond; and to
this very day a reputation for special truthfulness and sobriety clings
to them, and not, I believe, without reason.
I am anxious to insist upon the resolution to maintain a high moral
standard amongst us, not only because of the supreme intrinsic
importance of righteousness; not only because I believe that as religion
is cleared of outward and ceremonial and perishable elements this
indestructible growth of holiness has more room to expand; but also
because it cannot be denied, and should, indeed, never be forgotten,
that there is a very real ground for the suspicion, or, at any rate, the
jealous scrutiny, with which any peculiarly exalted spiritual
aspirations are apt to be regarded.
There is a well-known and very awful connection between religious
emotion and emotions arising from sources less pure. There is an
ever-present danger lest in any endeavour to stimulate the one we should
rouse the other, and a still worse danger lest the lower should assume
the garb and appearance of the higher. The history of religious revivals
affords abundant warning of the dangers inseparable from all sudden
outbursts of feeling, even where much of it is deep and true and
lasting.
No doubt the founders of the Society of Friends had their share of such
instructive and at times mortifying experience.[30] They were brave men,
and knew the reality of their own deep experience, and were not easily
discouraged by a few extravagances (they appear, indeed, to have been
remarkably few) amongst their followers. But there is reason to think
that they were strongly impressed with the importance of specially
guarding the sobriety becoming the children of the day, at a time when
their own preaching was working in men’s minds like new wine. Besides
the one great and invariable safeguard of their constant preaching of
righteousness, and appeal to the light without as the test of the
reality of the light within, there were two special precautions which
they consciously or unconsciously took against the danger of spiritual,
or _quasi_-spiritual, excitement.
One of these was the full recognition that the action of the Spirit of
God upon the heart consisted not only in impulse but in restraint, and
that for its right interpretation the part of the creature was to be
quiet. “Stand still in the light” is one of the familiar burdens of
George Fox’s advice. Friends were, and are still, as carefully taught to
submit to the restraints as to yield to the impulses of “best wisdom.”
To “dwell deep,” to “pause upon it,” not to proceed unless “way opens,”
nor on any account to disregard a “stop in one’s mind,”—these and many
such familiar Quaker admonitions show by how much “holy fear” their zeal
has habitually been tempered.
“Quietism” is, indeed, the natural accompaniment of “mysticism” (of
mysticism, that is, in the sense of belief in the inner light). That a
vivid sense of the presence of the Creator should bring stillness to the
creature is inevitable. And only under the restraining and controlling
power of the deep awe thus inspired can it be safe or wholesome for the
human spirit to stand in the immediate presence of its own Divine
Source. There was surely a deep truth in the old Hebrew feeling, “Shall
man see God and live?” Religious emotion need not be unreal to be
unwholesome. The deeper the chord stirred, the more awful the danger
arising from any jarring or deviation from the due and steady amount of
tension.
Another precaution against the danger of yielding to excitement or to
immature or unguarded impulse, is provided in our whole system of
“Church government” and oversight, and especially in the importance
attached to ascertaining “Friends’ unity” with any proposed religious
service before proceeding in it. This is a curious and beautifully
adapted sheath provided for the buddings of a ministry which is free in
the sense of being entirely spontaneous, prompted only by an impulse
believed to be from above. It is by no means an unknown thing, perhaps
not even an uncommon thing (but of this I speak from but scanty
opportunities of observation), for Friends in their business meetings to
discourage “concerns” which do not appear to them to be justified by
reasons sufficiently weighty, or which in some other way fail to commend
themselves to the judgment of the meeting.
Not only directly, but also by the indirect effect of the value thus
collectively and traditionally assigned to care and caution in handling
spiritual things, do these recognized practices tend to inculcate
sobriety and patience. And above all it is a deeply ingrained feeling in
the Quaker mind that every vessel to be used for sacred purposes must
before all things be clean. Every one coming forward as a minister of
the gospel especially must approve himself, or herself, in the full
light of day as not only preaching, but living, according to the Spirit
of Truth.
And these “ministers,” be it remembered, are not people leading a
sheltered and separate life; but men and women engaged in the ordinary
business of life, following trades and professions, and sharing in all
the daily experiences of those to whom they minister. Is there not
something peculiarly adapted to the needs of our day in the combination
of matter-of-fact, wholesome, sober independence with the thorough-going
and unreserved spirituality and purity of our acknowledged aim—that,
namely, of living under the immediate guidance of the Spirit of Truth?
It is here that I see in the ideal of Quakerism the one perennially
right and fruitful ideal of Christian life—obedience to truth in the
fullest and highest sense; the living truth—not truth in the sense of
accurate or orthodox belief about Christ, but of an actual partaking of
His Spirit, who Himself _is_ the Way, the Truth, and the Life; a
learning through obedience to know His voice, and a continual
witness-bearing to others of the reality and the power of His living
presence and teaching. We can bear this witness in one, and only in one,
way; our lives must be penetrated by the light—the light which lighteth
every man that cometh into the world—penetrated and kindled and
purified, till they too shine both inwardly and outwardly. The life is
the light of men.
In our days faith is challenged at every point and at every turn, with a
freedom and a violence which was unknown fifty years ago. All that can
be shaken is being shaken, to its very foundations. My own firm belief
is that, though full of danger, this is on the whole a natural, a
necessary, and, in the main, a beneficial process. Throw a large load of
fuel on a clear fire, and for a time it may seem doubtful whether it is
not extinguished; but if the flame be strong enough, it will rise again
through the smoke and dust, and burn the stronger for what it has
mastered. And so assuredly will faith in whatever is truly eternal rise
above all present confusions and darkenings of counsel, and burn with
fresh power in those hearts which have steadfastly cleaved to truth, be
its requirements what they may.
The Society of Friends has always refused to require adhesion to any
formularies as an express or even implied condition of membership; and
surely it has done wisely.[31] It has frankly and steadily accepted the
Bible as the one common standard and storehouse of written doctrine, but
it has always had the courage to trust unreservedly to the immediate
teaching of “the Spirit which gave forth the Scriptures” for their
interpretation, and for the leading of each one “into all truth;” it has
hitherto been true to its belief in the living Guide. And this, I am
convinced, is the only belief which will meet the needs of the free
thought of our day.
If thought is to be truly free, in the sense of fearless and unbiased,
it must not only be open to the whole range of experience, but it must
be subject to the correction of central and unchanging principles;
freedom requires stability as well as openness. I believe that those of
us who have learned to submit to correction both from without and from
within, who dare to face at once every real fact, and every necessary
process of mental discipline, within their reach, have a most weighty
office to fill amidst the troubled thoughts and lives of our day. For
while human nature is what it is, it must recognize, however dimly, that
it needs not only to be fed with knowledge, but to be strengthened with
might in the inner man.
People want, and must have if they are to be spiritually helped at all,
two things mainly at this moment, as I believe. They want a higher,
purer, worthier form of faith and worship than they have been accustomed
to find provided for them; and they want stronger proof of the reality
of the objects of faith than is commonly offered.
By a higher, purer, worthier form of faith and worship, I do not mean
improved formularies or liturgies; I mean rather that openness to
improvement which is precluded by fixed forms, and which the very beauty
and dignity of the Anglican Liturgy tends to impede. They want, I
believe, a manner of worship which shall be simpler, more living and
actual—truly higher and purer because less intellectually ambitious, and
more freshly inspired by human needs and Divine help; and a manner of
speaking about Divine things less conventional, less technical and
artificial, arising more visibly from actual experience, and based more
solidly upon common ground. They want not authorized teachers, but
competent witnesses; not to listen to sermons and religious “services,”
however admirable, which are delivered in fulfilment of a professional
engagement, within prescribed bounds of orthodoxy, at stated times and
in regular amount; but to come into personal contact with those who have
seen, felt, encountered, the things of which they speak; and who speak
not because they are officially appointed to speak, but out of the
fulness of the heart because they must—people who dare to be silent when
they have nothing to say, and who are not afraid to acknowledge their
ignorance, their doubts, or their perplexities. We are becoming critical
and impatient of conventionalities, not only, as I believe, because
education is spreading, but also because we are hungry for reality,
because we are brought face to face (by the astonishing circulation of
everything) with all manner of problems which are awful enough for us
all, and doubly awful for those whose foundation is in any way insecure.
In the presence—and in these days every corner of the land, not to say
of the world, is in a sense present to our mental vision—in the presence
of every variety of human (and animal) misery, of vice and crime and
violence, and inherited degradation and disease, of changes and dangers
and crumblings away of every refuge, who can wonder if men and women
refuse to be satisfied with shallow or conventional explanations of the
fearful problems confronting them and challenging their faith? The
glibness, the exasperating completeness, the unconscious blasphemy, of
many “orthodox” vindications of Providence, are enough to disgust people
with mere orthodoxy.
We Christians have been roughly awakened by the storm, and are beginning
to recognize that we needed such a correcting and sifting of our thought
and language as modern attacks are abundantly supplying. At such a
moment it is surely an unspeakable privilege for any religious body to
be entirely unshackled by creeds and formularies; to have nothing in its
tradition or practices to hinder it from profiting by this process of
correction, or from uttering its perennial and unalterable testimony in
the freshest and most flexible and modern language it can command. And
perhaps it is a still greater privilege, in the midst of this Babel, to
have learned the thrice-blessed power of silence; to have secured both
in private and in public the opportunity and the practice of dwelling
silently upon that which is unspeakable and unchangeable; of witnessing
to the light in that stillness which most clearly reflects the Divine
glory, in which the accusations of the enemy are most effectually
quenched.
And not only do people in these days want purer expressions of faith;
they need also stronger proofs of the reality of its objects. I do not,
of course, mean new proofs; I do not mean that really new evidence can
ever be forthcoming in favour of eternal truth, though fresh aspects and
illustrations and revelations of it are indeed crowding upon us day by
day. I mean rather that the battle which was formerly fought by single
champions here and there has now broken forth along the whole line; that
in these days, whether we will or no, we are all in the thick of the
fight; that no one can help hearing the deepest of all truths called in
question at every turn; and that we need weapons, if not of tougher
quality, yet of readier use and more thoroughly proved, more honestly
our own, than those which may have sufficed in former times. We need, I
believe, moral and spiritual rather than merely intellectual proof of
the reality of that which alone can satisfy the human spirit in its
deepest needs. Let creeds, like all other beliefs, be sifted, and
tested, and corrected, and proved or disproved, and in every way dealt
with as truth may require. Those whose one object is truth can have
nothing to dread from any serious and legitimate handling of any
question whatever. But, when all is said and thought, it remains for
ever true that man cannot by searching find out God; while yet without
Him what good shall our lives do us? It is not by supplying people with
the wisest and truest replies to their difficulties that they can be
effectually armed against them. Second-hand belief is poor comfort in
days when authority of all kinds is so freely discredited. And at all
times and under all circumstances something more than theory is required
for victory.
For what, after all, is this “faith,” which above all things we who have
even a grain of it must desire to hold forth to others? “This is the
victory which overcometh the world, even our faith.” It is a power, not
a mere belief; and power can be shown only in action, only in overcoming
resistance. Power that shall lift us one by one above temptations, above
cares, above selfishness; power that shall make all things new, and
subdue all things unto itself; power by which loss is transmuted into
gain, tribulation into rejoicing, death itself into the gate of
everlasting life;—is not this the true meaning of faith?
I see no possible means of spreading such faith as this but to exercise
it; in our own persons, as the way is prepared for us, to work
righteousness, to obtain promises, out of weakness to be made strong, to
wax valiant in fight—yes, and to receive our dead raised to life again.
These are the proofs which will convince the world “of sin, of
righteousness, and of judgment;” these, not reasonings, are the proofs
of a Divine Fountain of life and power to which Friends have been taught
to attach weight. Formularies, even the most perfect in their day, and
the most venerable in their origin, will wear out. The meaning of
language shifts, and the changing lights of knowledge distort whatever
forms do not change with them; but the power of an endless life will
never lose its hold on human hearts; and the need for help from the
cloud of witnesses compassing us about was never sorer than in our own
days.
Around us from all sides comes the cry, spoken or unspoken, “Give us of
your oil.” But we who are not unsupplied are being sternly taught to
reply, “Not so; but go ye to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.”
“To them that sell.” The “water of life” is for all that are athirst;
the “wine and milk” are without money and without price. But the oil,
the supply of light for other lives, this must truly be bought with a
price. Not at second-hand, not by sitting at our ease and absorbing the
thoughts of others, can we become as lamps to show forth the path of
life. Our own hearts must first be baptized with fire, and our knowledge
bought at the cost of suffering. It is such dearly-bought knowledge
alone which can enable any one to raise a standard round which others
will rally in fighting the good fight of faith.
The special struggle of our day is a struggle for truth. We who have
been bold to call ourselves children of light, shall we not boldly join
hands with all who are struggling towards the light? Shall we not be
willing and ready to lay aside every weight,—not only every hindering
possession or habit, but every vain endeavour to bind in the truth of
God by human formularies and definitions,—and unreservedly trust to the
living teaching of the Spirit for ourselves and others, “looking for God
_in holiness_, that we may behold His power and glory?”
Holiness—that is, obedience—is surely the rock upon which alone we can
build any faith that will endure. Standing firmly on that rock, and on
that only, we may hope to catch some glimpses of the Divine mysteries.
“Clouds and darkness are round about Thee, but righteousness and truth
are the habitation of Thy throne.” It ill becomes us to attempt to
explain all the dealings of God with man, still more the mysteries of
the Divine Being and Nature; and that which must for ever remain a
mystery to the most faithful of His children it is idle indeed to
undertake to explain to others. Yet let us never flinch from bearing
witness to that of which through these awful clouds we have from time to
time been permitted to obtain some broken vision. Let us never cease to
do what in us lies to persuade our fellows to lift their eyes also to
the heavens, and though the vision may tarry, to wait for it in
steadfast patience. They may call us dreamers, and we may think them
blind. When we speak of the stars, they may say we are idly romancing
about a mere painted ceiling. But the end is not yet. No roof of human
workmanship will endure for ever. Sooner or later all that is of earth
must perish and crumble away. Then is the time for the children of light
to “lift up their heads,” knowing that “their redemption draweth nigh.”
For beyond all words and all proofs lies the true anchorage of the
spirit, to which every firmly rooted life bears a witness neither
needing nor admitting of utterance. Deeper than all need of mere
conviction is the need of rest and stability. We must be at rest before
we can be free. In quietness and in confidence is our strength. While
our hearts are tossed and agitated by every wave of this troublesome
world, while the shadows of passing things have power to distract and
confuse our vision, we cannot clearly discern that truth which alone can
make us free.
Truly “there remaineth a rest for the people of God;” a satisfying,
soul-restoring fulness of rest of which some of us have begun to taste.
Some of us know assuredly that nothing perishable is the habitation of
our spirits. Some of us know what it is to be willingly brought into an
order flowing perceptibly and perpetually from the one unchangeable will
of God, in which alone can our own will be harmonized and made
steadfast. Some of us are learning ever more and more fully to accept
the Father’s will because it _is_ the will of the Father, entering more
and more truly day by day into the spirit of sonship. To experience in
our own hearts the harmonizing, purifying, invigorating power of the
Divine will is to be at rest for ourselves and for others; not to be set
free from suffering or to become indifferent to it, but to be
undisturbed by it—to know that underneath all the agitations of the
creatures are the everlasting arms; to receive strength to consent to
whatever is ordained by that blessed will, and to resist whatever is
opposed to it.
In thus taking up the cross, we begin to see something of its glory, to
experience something of its redeeming power. When we have ourselves
passed from death unto life, having been led through “sundry kinds of
death” into ever fuller and more abundant life, then indeed we can bear
witness to the redeeming power of Christ; then we speak of what we do
know, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life; then we are on
our own ground.
It has ever been our belief that the light of Christ, the brightness of
the Father’s glory, is (through obedience to light, even while in
ignorance of its source) purifying the hearts of many who name not His
Name—who are not yet able to recognize the blessed Face from which the
light shines. But the fulness of “the light which no man can approach
unto” is surely reserved for those who stand before the throne of God
and of the Lamb, and with full purpose of heart bow in adoration before
Him that sitteth thereon.
We claim to be a people who have found rest in God; a people building
our house upon the rock, through obedience to those “words of eternal
life” given forth by Christ, the Word. We recognize His Voice as
speaking to us, not only in the pages of Scripture, but also in the
whole course of life as ordered by Him; and yet more closely in the
inmost chamber of our own hearts; and we desire to yield to it an
undivided allegiance.
Our calling is, as branches of the living Vine, to let the working of
that Voice, Light, Spirit, and Grace of Christ be shown forth in our own
lives; and, as power may be given us, to bear witness of it also in
words; baptizing and being baptized into the one Name in which alone is
salvation.
If, therefore, we have so unassailable a stronghold, so deep and
immovable a foundation, let us never cease to look up steadfastly into
heaven, if so be we may “see the heavens opened;” that we may receive
into our hearts, and reflect with ever-increasing fulness in our lives,
the rays of the Sun of Righteousness. The vision may indeed be
intercepted again and again by the driving clouds; our sight may fail or
falter; but the glory itself is unchangeable, and it is in reflecting
that glory alone that any human face can be, to those that stand by, “as
the face of an angel”—of a Divinely appointed messenger of glad tidings.
APPENDIX.
NOTE A.
The following are the twelve queries now read, “at least once in the
year,” in all our meetings. The parts of the second and tenth, to which
alone answers are required, are printed in italics. It should, however,
be observed that, “with regard to those queries to which no answer is
required, Monthly Meetings are encouraged to report to their Quarterly
Meetings, from time to time, on such of the subjects comprised in them,
as they may think desirable. Quarterly Meetings are recommended to
transmit such reports, or a summary of them, to the Yearly Meeting.”[32]
Queries.
1. What is the religious state of your meeting? Are you individually
giving evidence of true conversion of heart, and of loving devotedness
to Christ?
2. _Are your meetings for worship regularly held; and how are they
attended?_ Are they occasions of religious solemnity and edification, in
which, through Christ, our ever-living High Priest and Intercessor, the
Father is worshipped in spirit and in truth?
3. Do you “walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us”? Do you cherish a
forgiving spirit? Are you careful of the reputation of others; and do
you avoid and discourage tale-bearing and detraction?
4. Are you individually frequent in reading, and diligent in meditating
upon, the Holy Scriptures? And are parents and heads of households in
the practice of reading them in their families in a devotional spirit,
encouraging any right utterance of prayer or praise?
5. Are you in the practice of private retirement and waiting upon the
Lord; in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving,
making your requests known unto Him? And do you live in habitual
dependence upon the help and guidance of the Holy Spirit?
6. Do you maintain a religious life and conversation as becometh the
gospel? Are you watchful against conformity to the world; against the
love of ease and self-indulgence; or being unduly absorbed by your
outward concerns to the hindrance of your religious progress and your
service for Christ? And do those who have children or others under their
care endeavour, by example and precept, to train them up as self-denying
followers of the Lord Jesus?
7. Do you maintain a faithful allegiance to the authority of our Lord
Jesus Christ as the one Head of the Church, and the Shepherd and Bishop
of souls, from whom alone must come the true call and qualification for
the ministry of the Word? And are you faithful in your testimony to the
freeness and spirituality of the gospel dispensation?
8. Are you faithful in maintaining our Christian testimony against all
war, as inconsistent with the precepts and spirit of the gospel?
9. Do you maintain strict integrity in all your transactions in trade,
and in your other outward concerns; and are you careful not to defraud
the public revenue?
10. _Are your meetings for Church affairs regularly held; and how are
they attended?_ Are these meetings vigilant in the discharge of their
duties towards their subordinate meetings, and in watching over the
flock in the love of Christ? When delinquencies occur, are they treated
timely, impartially, and in a Christian spirit? And do you individually
take your right share in the attendance and service of these meetings?
11. Do you, as a Church, exercise a loving and watchful care over your
younger members; promoting their instruction in fundamental Christian
truth, and in the scriptural grounds of our religious principles; and
manifesting an earnest desire that, through the power of Divine grace,
they may all become established in the faith and hope of the gospel?
12. Do you fulfil your part as a Church, and as individuals, in
promoting the cause of truth and righteousness, and the spread of the
Redeemer’s kingdom, at home and abroad? (1875.)
NOTE B.
Home Mission Committee of the Yearly Meeting.
The desire felt by many Friends that the Society should, in a more
systematic manner than was formerly thought necessary, recognize and
provide for what is called “evangelistic” and “pastoral” work, led, in
1882, to the appointment of a Committee of the Yearly Meeting on “Home
Missions.” This Committee began its work by inviting the co-operation of
the Monthly and Quarterly Meetings, and in its first Annual Report it
mentions that ten of the Quarterly Meetings had appointed Committees to
correspond with it; in the next year thirteen of the Quarterly Meetings
were thus in correspondence with the Home Mission Committee; and in 1887
the Report states that the Home Mission Committee itself includes
members of every Quarterly Meeting except one.
In 1888, the number of Friends working in connection with the Home
Mission Committee was nineteen. The Report of 1889 speaks of a
considerable extension of the work of the Committee, but does not give
the number of workers.
The donations and subscriptions received by the Committee in the year
ending May, 1889, amounted to £2333.
The work undertaken by “Home Mission Friends” is of various kinds; such
as conducting first day schools, Bible classes, temperance meetings,
lecturing on Friends’ principles, in some neighbourhoods visiting the
sick and the poor, and in various ways endeavouring to build up and
strengthen meetings which seem to be in need of help.
Notwithstanding the large measure of support which the Committee has met
with, there are many Friends who feel very serious hesitation about this
practice of providing “pastoral care,” and who fear lest it should tend
to weaken, if not to destroy, the force of our testimony against a paid
or humanly appointed ministry. The danger is obvious; and I shall not
attempt to estimate the degree in which it can be averted, or the force
of the reasons for encountering it. I will content myself with making
from the Reports of the Committee a few extracts bearing upon this
question.
“We have been forcibly impressed with the extent and variety of openings
for service which have presented themselves to us. Much of this work is
of a character which can, we believe, be more effectually performed by
the Society of Friends than by any other religious body.... In two
instances we have deemed it right to give pecuniary assistance to
Friends who felt it laid upon them, as a religious duty, to give the
whole or a greater part of their time to the work.... These arrangements
involve no bargain or understanding whatsoever for the preaching of the
gospel, and their work has been largely of an organizing character.”
(1883.)
“It is found that Friends in all parts of the country are watchful lest
a separate class of supported ministers should be set up, and this is a
matter which has from the first received our very serious attention. It
is our practice, when a Friend has offered his services to this
Committee, not to enter upon the question of the amount or manner of
support to be granted him until after he has been accepted by us. We
have carefully avoided the establishment of any scale of maintenance,
each case being separately considered on the basis of the actual needs
and circumstances of the Friend in question; and we have encouraged
Friends, where practicable, to contribute by their labour to their own
support.” (1886.)
“We are glad to report an increase in the number of those who require no
pecuniary assistance beyond necessary expenses when actually on
religious service. About half the workers are living on their private
means, or partially maintaining themselves by their labour. About half
of the number may also be considered as stationed more or less in one
place, and the remainder as engaged in evangelistic visits to various
towns as way may open. Of the resident workers, several have travelled
with minutes from their Monthly Meetings, or have rendered temporary
assistance to particular meetings by request of other Monthly Meetings
than their own.... In the meetings where our workers are resident, the
voices of many new members are frequently heard in exhortation and
prayer. In one of them a visiting Friend desired a meeting with all
those who took vocal part in meetings. No fewer than thirteen responded
to his invitation, while three or four more were prevented by other
engagements.... We believe our workers are, without exception, loyal to
the testimony of the Society against the establishment directly or
indirectly, of a ‘one-man ministry.’... Since the formation of this
Committee there is hardly a Quarterly Meeting in which they” (the
Friends engaged in “evangelistic” work) “have not travelled, in several
of them many times and for many weeks together.... Some of these visits
have originated in concerns of the Friends themselves. In other cases
the way has been made for them by an invitation of a Quarterly, Monthly,
or particular Meeting, or the Committee of some Friends’ mission or
adult school. In no case has this Committee deemed it consistent to SEND
any worker anywhere, or to do more than lay such invitation before him,
leaving it to his own conviction of duty as to whether he can see his
way to accept it or not.” (1888.)
“With one exception, every Friend in connection with us has been engaged
during the year to a greater or less extent in work outside the meeting
in which he resides.” (1889.)
NOTE C.
Slavery.
In the introduction by J. G. Whittier to a recent edition of John
Woolman’s “Journal,”[33] there is a remarkable account of the manner in
which our Society in America was gradually freed from all complicity
with slavery, long before the struggle for its abolition was begun
elsewhere; from which I venture to make some extracts, for the sake of
the illustration it affords of the working both of our principles and of
our machinery.
From the time of George Fox himself, who in 1671 visited Barbadoes, and
admonished those who held slaves there to bear in mind that they were
brethren, and that “after certain years of servitude they should make
them free,” voices had been raised again and again in several of the
American meetings to witness against the buying and keeping of slaves.
In 1742, John Woolman, then in the employment of a small storekeeper in
New Jersey, was desired by his master to make out a bill of sale of a
negro slave-woman. “On taking up his pen,” says Whittier, “the young
clerk felt a sudden and strong scruple in his mind. The thought of
writing an instrument of slavery for one of his fellow-creatures
oppressed him. God’s voice against the desecration of His image spoke in
his soul. He yielded to the will of his employer, but while writing the
instrument he was constrained to declare, both to the buyer and the
seller, that he believed slave-keeping inconsistent with the Christian
religion.” This circumstance “was the starting-point of a lifelong
testimony against slavery.
“In the year 1746, he visited Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. He
was afflicted by the prevalence of slavery. It appeared to him, in his
own words, ‘as a dark gloominess overhanging the land.’ On his return,
he wrote an essay on the subject, which was published in 1754. Three
years after, he made a second visit to the Southern meetings of Friends.
Travelling as a minister of the gospel, he was compelled to sit down at
the tables of slave-holding planters, who were accustomed to entertain
their friends free of cost, and who could not comprehend the scruples of
their guest against receiving as a gift food and lodging which he
regarded as the gains of oppression. He was a poor man, but he loved
truth more than money. He therefore placed the pay for his entertainment
in the hands of some member of the family, for the benefit of the
slaves, or gave it directly to them, as he had opportunity....
“The annual assemblage of the Yearly Meeting in 1758 at Philadelphia[34]
must ever be regarded as one of the most important religious
convocations in the history of the Christian Church. The labours of
Woolman and his few but earnest associates had not been in vain. A deep
and tender interest had been awakened, and this meeting was looked
forward to with varied feelings of solicitude by all parties. All felt
that the time had come for some definite action.... At length,” after a
“solemn and weighty appeal” from John Woolman, “the truth in a great
measure triumphed over opposition; and, without any public dissent, the
meeting agreed that the injunction of our Lord and Saviour, to do to
others as we would that others should do to us, should induce Friends
who held slaves ‘to set them at liberty, making a Christian provision
for them;’ and four Friends” (of whom John Woolman was one) “were
approved of as suitable persons to visit and treat with such as kept
slaves, within the limits of the meeting.
“This painful and difficult duty was faithfully performed.... These
labours were attended with the blessing of the God of the poor and
oppressed. Dealing in slaves was almost entirely abandoned, and many who
held slaves set them at liberty. But many members still continuing the
practice, a more emphatic testimony against it was issued by the Yearly
Meeting in 1774; and two years after, the subordinate meetings were
directed to deny the right of membership to such as persisted in holding
their fellow-men as property.... In the year 1760, John Woolman, in the
course of a religious visit to New England,” attended their Yearly
Meeting, where “the London Epistle for 1758, condemning the unrighteous
traffic in men, was read, and the substance of it embodied in the
discipline of the meeting; and the following query was adopted, to be
answered by the subordinate meetings: ‘Are Friends clear of importing
negroes, or buying them when imported; and do they use those well where
they are possessed by inheritance or otherwise, endeavouring to train
them up in principles of religion?’ ... In 1769, at the suggestion of
the Rhode Island Quarterly Meeting, the Yearly Meeting expressed its
sense of the wrongfulness of holding slaves, and appointed a large
committee to visit those members who were implicated in the practice....
It was stated, in the Epistle to London Yearly Meeting of the year 1772,
that a few Friends had freed their slaves from bondage, but that others
‘have been so reluctant thereto, that they _have been disowned_[35] for
not complying with the advice of this meeting.’
“In 1773, the following minute was made: ‘It is our sense that truth not
only requires the young of capacity and ability, but likewise the aged
and impotent, and also all in a state of infancy and nonage, among
Friends, to be discharged and set free from a state of slavery; that we
do no more claim property in the human race, as we do in the beasts that
perish.’
“In 1782, no slaves were known to be held in the New England Yearly
Meeting. The next year, it was recommended to the subordinate meetings
to appoint committees to effect a proper and just _settlement between
the manumitted slaves and their former masters for their past services_.
In 1784, it was concluded by the Yearly Meeting that any slaveholder who
refused to comply with the award of these committees should, after due
care and labour with him, be disowned from the Society. This was
effectual; settlements without disownment were made to the satisfaction
of all parties, and every case was disposed of previous to the year
1787.
“In the New York Yearly Meeting, slave-trading was prohibited about the
middle of the last century. In 1771, in consequence of an epistle from
the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, a committee was appointed to visit
those who held slaves, and to advise with them in relation to
emancipation. In 1776, it was made a disciplinary offence to buy, sell,
or hold slaves upon any condition. In 1784, but one slave was to be
found in the limits of the meeting. In the same year, by answers from
the several subordinate meetings, it was ascertained that an equitable
settlement for past services had been effected between the emancipated
negroes and their masters in all but three cases.
“In the Virginia Yearly Meeting slavery had its strongest hold.” In
1757, it “condemned the foreign slave trade. In 1764, it enjoined upon
its members the duty of kindness towards their servants, of educating
them, and carefully providing for their food and clothing. Four years
after, its members were strictly prohibited from purchasing any more
slaves. In 1773, it earnestly recommended the immediate manumission of
all slaves held in bondage, after the females had reached eighteen and
the males twenty-one years of age. At the same time it was advised that
committees should be appointed for the purpose of instructing the
emancipated persons in the principles of morality and of religion, and
for advising and aiding them in their temporal concerns....
“In 1784, the different Quarterly Meetings having reported that many
still held slaves, notwithstanding the advice and entreaties of their
friends, the Yearly Meeting directed that, where _endeavours_ to
convince those offenders of their error proved ineffectual, the Monthly
Meeting should proceed to disown them. We have no means of ascertaining
the precise number of those actually disowned for slave-holding in the
Virginia Yearly Meeting, but it is well known to have been very small.
In almost all cases the care and assiduous labours of those who had the
welfare of the Society and of humanity at heart were successful in
inducing offenders to manumit their slaves, and confess their error in
resisting the wishes of their friends, and bringing reproach upon the
cause of truth.
So ended slavery in the Society of Friends. For three-quarters of a
century the advice put forth in the meetings of the Society at stated
intervals, that Friends should be ‘careful to maintain their testimony
against slavery,’ has been adhered to, so far as owning, or even hiring,
a slave is concerned. Apart from its first fruits of emancipation, there
is a perennial value in the example exhibited of the power of truth,
urged patiently and in earnest love, to overcome the difficulties in the
way of the eradication of an evil system, strengthened by long habit,
entangled with all the complex relations of society, and closely allied
with the love of power, the pride of family, and the lust of gain.’
I need hardly remind my readers of the singular interest of John
Woolman’s own account of his experiences in this and other matters,
which would scarcely admit of abridgment. I have, therefore, been
obliged, though unwillingly, to content myself with the above bare
enumeration of the actual steps taken by the various meetings, without
making any attempt to show to what an extent John Woolman’s own deep
exercises of mind contributed to bring them about. For a study of Quaker
experience, in its purest and most impressive form, the “Journal” itself
is perhaps unrivalled.
FOOTNOTES
[1]“Book of Christian Discipline of the Religious Society of Friends in
Great Britain; consisting of Extracts on Doctrine, Practice, and
Church Government, from the Epistles and other Documents issued
under the sanction of the Yearly Meeting held in London from its
first institution in 1672 to 1883.” London: Samuel Harris and Co.,
5, Bishopsgate Street Without. 1883.
[2]The queries now in use are given at length in the Appendix, Note A.
[3]It is estimated that in 1680 (or thirty-two years from the beginning
of George Fox’s ministry) the number of Friends was about 40,000.
“In 1656 Fox computed that there were seldom less than 1000 in
prison; and it has been asserted that, between 1661 and 1697, 13,562
Quakers were imprisoned, 152 were transported, and 338 died in
prison or of their wounds” (“Encycl. Brit.,” 9th edit., art.
“Quakers”).
[4]I may, perhaps, here be allowed to point out the ambiguity of the
expression “immediate inspiration.” The word “immediate” may be
understood to mean direct, and in this sense it is, I think,
superfluous; for it is surely impossible to conceive of inspiration
as indirect, although revelation may easily be so. But it may also,
in reference to any particular thought communicated, be understood
as meaning “instantaneous;” and in this sense a special importance
has been attached to it by some Friends, which is, I believe,
deprecated by others, as restricting “ministry” to the utterance of
words believed to be at the moment given for utterance, under what
is called a “fresh anointing” from above. I would, therefore, rather
avoid at present the use of the expression “immediate inspiration,”
when speaking of our belief that there is in every heart a witness
for the truth, which is, so to speak, radiated from the central
truth. The “light” seems, on the whole, to be the figure least open
to any possible misinterpretation.
[5]Let me not be understood to mean that the process of “keeping the
mind” (in Quaker phrase) “retired to the Lord” is an easy one. On
the contrary, it may need strenuous effort. But the _effort_ can be
made at will and even the mere effort thus to retire from the
surface to the depths of life is sure to bring help and
strengthening—is in itself a strengthening, steadying process.
[6]“If ye have not been faithful in that which is another man’s, who
shall give you that which is your own?” (Luke XVI. 12).
[7]I do not, of course, forget that, going to the imperfection of human
laws and human faculties, cases may and do occur in which Divine
guidance must lead us in ways which run counter to them. The figure
used above is intended only to illustrate the general correspondence
between the map, as it were, which can be laid down by the reason of
man, and that individual and immediate guidance which alone can show
us a higher and a narrower, but yet freer, pathway—the pathway of
that highest service which is perfect freedom. When, in exceptional
cases, any contrariety really emerges between the human and the
Divine guiding lines, we may surely still, without too much
straining of our figure, say that it is a living power only which
can free any human spirit from the too narrow fencing in of a morbid
or unenlightened conscience, and guide it by paths running counter
to the beaten track of conventional morality, or even in some rare
instances authorize and enable and require it to overleap even the
cliffs of actual law, trusting that in such cases, as experience has
already taught us, the blood of the martyrs will still be the seed
of the Church.
[8]Sermon XIV., “On the Love of God,” Butler’s “Sermons,” p. 278
(London, 1726). And in his charge to the clergy of Durham, published
with the “Analogy” (London, 1802), he repeats the words which I have
printed above in italics, and speaks of public worship as “a time of
devotion, when we are assembled to yield ourselves up to the full
influence of the Divine presence.”
[9]See Introduction.
[10]It is, I think, in this connection important to distinguish between
the question, How do you in practice distinguish between a true and
a false message? and the quite separate inquiry, How do you in
theory distinguish between the human faculty of imagination and the
Divine action signified by the word “inspiration”? It is with the
first question only that I have been concerned in the text, as it
is, I believe, the only question with which honesty requires us to
grapple. Any attempt to give a full answer to the second question
would require a degree of psychological skill to which I have no
claim; and I doubt whether the very terms of the question do not
lead us beyond the province even of psychology. But, speaking in a
popular and trustful way, I should reply that we are not concerned
to discern the precise limits of the Divine and the human; only to
throw open the deepest human powers to the purest Divine influences;
that the result we look for is the fruit of a devout intelligence,
first purified, and then swayed, by the immediate action of Divine
power. It surely involves something like a contradiction in terms to
inquire at what precise line a distinction is obliterated?
[11]People have said to me again and again, If you want to be silent,
why cannot you be silent at home? Such an objection seems hardly
intended to be seriously answered, yet I have heard it so often that
I cannot but notice it. Surely it need hardly be pointed out that it
applies at least equally strongly to the practice of meeting
together to join in prayers, which, being already in print and
chosen according to the calendar, each of us might read at home. But
the worthier answer is that, whether our utterance be prearranged or
spontaneous, we meet in order to kindle in each other the flame of
true worship, and also to show forth our allegiance to the Master,
to whom we are so united as to feel our need of each other’s
sympathy in drawing near to Him.
[12]In what follows there is, indeed, no “doctrine” of any kind; no
attempt, I mean, to offer formulated or authorized teaching. I have
endeavoured to show how in my own experience the intellectual
difficulties with which the subject is surrounded did, when honestly
and patiently faced, prove in due time the means of purifying, not
of quenching, that true spirit of prayer which is indeed the very
breath of our inner life. I trust that none will misunderstand my
outspokenness in stating those difficulties. They are, and in these
days must be, freely recognized. Unless we who have a witness to
bear for the Author of spiritual worship are willing to face them,
our witness will fail to reach those who most sorely need it. I am
driven once more to appeal to “something more than candour” in my
readers for a right interpretation of my struggle to unfold thoughts
which tax my powers of utterance to the uttermost, and which I yet
dare not withhold.
[13]“Apology,” Prop. xiii.
[14]See Appendix, Note B, for a short account of the “Home Mission
Committee.”
[15]I believe, as I have already said, that few people outside the
Society are aware of the extent to which the practice is still
continued of Friends who feel themselves called to the ministry
travelling, as we say, “in the service of truth,” or “under a sense
of religious concern,” not only from place to place in England, but
also all over the world. A remarkable variety of “services” are in
this way spontaneously undertaken, and carried out, sometimes quite
alone, sometimes with the help of one or more Friends “liberated” to
accompany the minister. And those small meetings where there is but
little vocal ministry are objects of special care and concern to the
larger meetings, of which they form a part; and many Friends make a
practice of visiting them from time to time.
There was also a special service to which ministering Friends
formerly often felt themselves called, and which, though much
disused of late years, is not altogether extinct—that of paying
“religious visits to families” in particular districts or, in other
words, of holding meetings for worship and mutual edification from
house to house—generally, but not invariably, amongst our own
members only. These visits were occasions specially adapted and felt
suitable for the exercise of that peculiar gift of “speaking to the
condition of” individuals which some Friends (especially in former
times) seem to have possessed in a remarkable degree. I believe them
to have been of deep value when rightly conducted by the few
possessing a real qualification for such delicate and at times
searching services, but perhaps peculiarly liable to degenerate into
what was neither edifying nor acceptable.
[16]For a short account of the manner in which, before the end of the
eighteenth century, the Society in America freed itself from all
complicity with slavery, as illustrating the working both of our
principles and of our organization, see Appendix, Note C.
[17]The expression “put under dealing” describes the prescribed
preliminary to disownment. When an overseer, having found private
remonstrance unavailing, is obliged to bring a case of wrong-doing
before the Monthly Meeting, that Meeting appoints one or two Friends
to visit and “deal with” the offender, in the way of exhortation and
counsel, with a view to induce him to acknowledge and condemn or
“disown” his own fault, and thus to avert the penalty of the
Society’s disownment of himself.
[18]I hope it will be remembered that my object throughout is to unfold
the meaning of our ideal, not at all to estimate the degree in which
we actually live according to it. I am not in a position to form any
opinion worth having as to the actual state of the Society, nor if I
had any such opinion should I wish to publish it. My desire is to
explain the secret of our strength, not of our weakness.
[19]I believe that scarcely any Friend would be found to consider the
office of the policeman as an unlawful one, or to entertain scruples
about the use of physical force in maintaining order. I am told that
Friends have often, and without censure, acted as special
constables.
With regard to the subject of capital punishment, the Yearly Meeting
has, indeed, during the last fifty years, expressed very serious
doubts of its being justifiable; but the matter is treated as one
“needing prayerful consideration” by those whom it may concern, not
as beyond all question clear.
[20]It is, I believe, notorious that many of the panics which often
actually lead to war, and which tend to keep up the enormous and
demoralizing burdens of an “armed peace,” are largely brought about
by those who have a pecuniary interest in them, either for
stock-jobbing or for newspaper-selling interests.
[21]I mean by “asceticism” the practice of any humanly devised religious
or spiritual discipline, whether self-chosen or prescribed by
authority.
[22]“But I say unto you, Swear not at all.... But let your communication
be Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of
evil” (Matt. v. 34-37).
[23]The victory thus won by Friends has paved the way for greater
liberty for all; and at the present time any one (whether
“professing with us” or not) who objects on the ground of religion
to the taking of an oath is equally at liberty to affirm.
[24]“Book of Discipline,” p. 141.
[25]The number of members was reported in 1862 as 13,844; in 1889 as
15,574. Before 1862 no returns were made.
[26]Many other causes have, no doubt, been at work in bringing about the
changes referred to in the text. I am, indeed, not qualified to
attempt anything like an adequate account, on however slight a
scale, of the recent history of the Society, and have desired in
this passage only to indicate the general direction of the principal
division of parties amongst us.
[27]Robert Barclay, who was for generation after generation regarded as
the main pillar of theoretic Quakerism, plainly declares the
Scriptures to be “a secondary rule”—subordinate, that is, to the
teaching of the Spirit by which they were given forth. He
anticipates many now familiar reflections about the inherent
uncertainties of interpretation and application which preclude the
possibility of our finding in any written words a sufficient guide
in the infinite variety of individual circumstances; and also
recognizes fully the many sources of error appertaining to writings
so ancient, and derived through so many differing versions and
translations. He declares, however, that “because they are commonly
acknowledged by all to have been written by the dictates of the Holy
Spirit, and that the errors which may be supposed by the injury of
Times to have slipt in are not such but that there is a sufficient
clear Testimony left to all the essentials of the Christian faith,
we do look upon them as the only fit outward judge of controversies
amongst Christians,” and adds that “we are very willing that all our
doctrines and practices shall be tried by them;” and that “we shall
also be very willing to admit, as a positive certain maxim, _That
whatsoever any do, pretending to the Spirit, which is contrary to
the Scriptures, be accounted and reckoned a Delusion of the Devil._
For as we never lay claim to the Spirit’s leadings that we may cover
ourselves in anything that is evil; so we know, that as every evil
contradicts the Scriptures, so it doth also the Spirit in the first
place, from which the Scriptures came” (Barclay’s “Apology,” p. 86:
London, 1736).
[28]“The Inner Light,” pp. 23-26.
[29]It may be worth while to mention in this connection that there is
not, so far as I have observed, any habitual preponderance of women
in Friends’ meetings. This impression is confirmed by the fact that
the number of habitual “attenders” (non-members) at our meetings is
given (in the tabular statement prepared for the Yearly Meeting of
1889) as follows:—
Males 2,962
Females 3,086
6,048
The rapid growth of Friends’ First Day Adult Schools is another
significant fact, as showing the openness to the teaching and
influence of Friends amongst working men, and at the same time the
energetic way in which that influence is being used. This movement
began, at the suggestion of the late Joseph Sturge, in Birmingham in
1845; and it appears, from the annual report of the Friends’ First
Day School Association, that the number of adult scholars was in
March, 1889, as follows:—
Men 17,591
Women 5,535
23,126
The Society of Friends, it should be remembered, numbers (including
children) only 15,574 members, yet the teaching in these schools is
entirely undertaken by Friends personally, and is, I believe, done
altogether without paid help, though valuable assistance is in many
cases given by former scholars.
[30]The history of James Naylor is the best-known case in point.
[31]When any person applies for membership, the Monthly Meeting appoints
one or more Friends to visit the applicant, and to report to the
meeting the result of the interview, before a reply is given. The
precise conditions to be fulfilled in such cases are nowhere laid
down, but the object is understood, in a general way, to be to
ascertain that the applicant is fully “convinced of Friends’
principles.” The test is thus a purely personal and individual one,
and partakes of the elasticity which characterizes all our
arrangements, and which is felt to favour the fullest dependence
upon Divine guidance.
[32]“Book of Discipline,” p. 229.
[33]Published by Robert Smeal, Glasgow, 1883.
[34]It must be remembered that the Society of Friends in America
consists of many Yearly Meetings, each of which is supreme and
independent within its own compass. Their number has considerably
increased since John Woolman’s time; and in the Western States there
is also a rapid increase in the number of members.
[35]The italics are throughout Whittier’s.
Transcriber’s Notes
—Silently corrected a few typos.
—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
is public-domain in the country of publication.
—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.
End of Project Gutenberg's Quaker Strongholds, by Caroline Emelia Stephen