again into shade, until the door at the bottom of the gallery finally closed after her. I felt a sadness of heart at the idea, that this was an emblem of her lot; a few more years of sunshine and shade, and all this life, and loveliness, and enjoyment,' will have ceased, and nothing be left to commemorate this beautiful being but one more perishable portrait to awaken, perhaps, the trite speculations of some future loiterer, like myself, when I also and my scribblings shall have lived through our brief existence and been forgotten."-Vol. i. pp. 64, 65. We can scarcely afford room even to allude to the rest of this elegant miscellany. "Ready-money Jack" is admirable throughout-and the old General very good. The lovers are, as usual, the most insipid. The Gypsies are sketched with great elegance as well as spirit-and Master Simon is quite delightful, in all the varieties of his ever versatile character. Perhaps the most pleasing thing about all these personages, is the perfect innocence and singleness of purpose which seems to belong to them-and which, even when it raises a gentle smile at their expense, breathes over the whole scene they inhabit an air of attraction and respect-like that which reigns in the De Coverley pictures of Addison. Of the exotic Tales which serve to fill up the volumes, that of "Dolph Heyliger" is incomparably the best-and is more char acteristic, perhaps, both of the author's turn of imagination and cast of humour, than any thing else in the work. "The Student of Salamanca" is too long; and deals rather largely in the commonplaces of romantic adventure:- while "Annette de la Barbe," though pretty and pathetic in some passages, is, on the whole, rather fade and finical-and too much in the style of the sentimental afterpieces which we have lately borrowed from the Parisian theatres. On the whole, we are very sorry to receive Mr. Crayon's farewell-and we return it with the utmost cordiality. We thank him most sincerely, for the pleasure he has given us— for the kindness he has shown to our country and for the lessons he has taught, both here and in his native land, of good taste, good nature, and national liberality. We hope he will come back among us soon-and remember us while he is away; and can assure him, that he is in no danger of being speedily forgotten. (April, 1807.) 4 Portraiture of Quakerism, as taken from a View of the Moral Education, Discipline, Peculiar Customs, Religious Principles, Political and Civil Economy, and Character of the Society of Friends. By THOMAS CLARKSON, M. A. Author of several Essays on the Subject of the Slave Trade. 8vo. 3 vols. London: 1806. THIS, we think, is a book peculiarly fitted for reviewing: For it contains many things which most people will have some curiosity to hear about; and is at the same time so intolerably dull and tedious, that no voluntary reader could possibly get through with it. ter; and not finding even this ample distribution sufficient to include all he had to say on the subject, he fills a supplemental half-volume, with repetitions and trifles, under the humiliating name of miscellaneous particulars. might evidently have been told, either under the head of their Doctrinal tenets, or of their peculiar Practices; but Mr. Clarkson, with a certain elaborate infelicity of method, chooses to discuss the merits of this society under the several titles, of their moral education-their The author, whose meritorious exertions for discipline-their peculiar customs-their rethe abolition of the slave trade brought himligion-their great tenets-and their characinto public notice a great many years ago, was recommended by this circumstance to the favour and the confidence of the Quakers, who had long been unanimous in that good cause; and was led to such an extensive and cordial intercourse with them in all parts of Quakerism had certainly undergone a conthe kingdom, that he came at last to have a siderable change in the quality and spirit of more thorough knowledge of their tenets and its votaries, from the time when George Fox living manners than any other person out of went about pronouncing woes against cities, the society could easily obtain. The effect attacking priests in their pulpits, and exhortof this knowledge has evidently been to ex-ing justices of the peace to do justice, to the cite in him such an affection and esteem time when such men as Penn and Barclay for those worthy sectaries, as we think can came into the society "by convincement,' scarcely fail to issue in his public conversion; and published such vindications of its docand, in the mean time, has produced a more trine, as few of its opponents have found it minute exposition, and a more elaborate de- convenient to answer. The change since fence of their doctrines and practices, than their time appears to have been much less has recently been drawn from any of their considerable. The greater part of these voown body. lumes may be considered, indeed, as a wilful deterioration of Barclay's Apology: and it 18 only where he treats of the private manners and actual opinions of the modern Quakers, that Mr. Clarkson communicates any thing which a curious reader might not have learnt The book, which is full of repetitions and plagiarisms, is distributed into a number of needless sections, arranged in a most unnatural and inconvenient order. All that any body can want to know about the Quakers, from that celebrated production. The laudatory and argumentative tone which he maintains throughout, gives an air of partiality to his statements which naturally diminishes our reliance on their accuracy: and as the argument is often extremely bad, and the praise apparently unmerited, we are rather inclined to think that his work will make a less powerful impression in favour of the friends," ," than might have been effected by a more moderate advocate. With many praise-tory scene might hold out to the unthinking. worthy maxims and principles for their moral conduct, the Quakers, we think, have but little to say for most of their peculiar practices; and make a much better figure when defending their theological mysteries, than when vindicating the usages by which they are separated from the rest of the people in the ordinary intercourse of life. It will be more convenient, however, to state our observations on their reasonings, as we attend Mr. Clarkson through his account of their principles and practice. Their objection to cards, dice, wagers, horseHe enters upon his task with such a wretch-races, &c. is said to be, first, that they may ed display of false eloquence, that we were lead to a spirit of gaming, which leads, again, very near throwing away the book. Our to obvious unhappiness and immorality; but readers will scarcely accuse us of impatience, when we inform them that the dissertation on the moral education of the Quakers begins with the following sentence : other purpose, but to mortify himself into a proper condition for the next;-that all our feelings of ridicule and sociality, and all the spring and gaiety of the animal spirits of youth, were given us only for our temptation and that, considering the shortness of this life, and the risk he runs of damnation after it man ought evidently to pass his days in de jection and terror, and to shut his heart to every pleasurable emotion which this transi "When the blooming spring sheds abroad its benign influence, man feels it equally with the rest of created nature. The blood circulates more freely, and a new current of life seems to be diffused in his veins. The aged man is enlivened, and the sick man feels himself refreshed. Good spirits and cheerful countenances succeed. But as the year changes in its seasons, and rolls round to its end, the tide seems to slacken, and the current of feeling to return to its former level."--Vol. i. p. 13. This may serve, once for all, as a specimen of Mr. Clarkson's taste and powers in fine writing, and as an apology for our abstaining, in our charity, for making any further ob servations on his style. Under the head of moral education, we are informed that the Quakers discourage, and strictly prohibit in their youth, all games of chance, music, dancing, novel reading, field sports of every description, and, in general, the use of idle words and unprofitable conversation. The motives of these several prohibitions are discussed in separate chapters of extreme dulness and prolixity. It is necessary, however, in order to come to a right understanding with those austere persons and their apologist, to enter a little into the discussion. The fundamental folly of these ascetic maxims has prevented the Quakers from adopting them in their full extent; but all the peculiarities of their manners may evidently be referred to this source; and the qualifications and exceptions under which they maintain the duty of abstaining from enjoyment, serve only, in most instances, to bring upon their reasonings the additional charge of inconsistency. chiefly, that they are sources of amusement unworthy of a sober Christian, and tend, by producing an unreasonable excitement, to disturb that tranquillity and equanimity which they look upon as essential to moral virtue "They believe," says Mr. Clarkson, “that si llness and quietness both of spirit and of body, are necessary, as far as they can be obtained. Hence, Quaker children are rebuked for all expressions of anger, as tending to raise those feelings which ought to be suppressed: a raising even of the voice beyond due bounds, is discouraged as leading to the disturbance of their minds. They are taught to rise in the morning in quietness; to go about their ordinary occupation with quietness; and to retire in quietness to their beds." Now this, we think, is a very miserable picture. The great curse of life, we believe, cessive stillness and quietness, and the want in all conditions above the lowest, is its exof interest and excitement which it affords: and though we certainly do not approve of cards and wagers as the best exhilarators of the spirits, we cannot possibly concur in the principle upon which they are rejected with mark which Mr. Clarkson himself makes af such abhorrence by this rigid society. A reterwards, might have led him to doubt of the soundness of their petrifying principles. 'It has often been observed," he says, "that a Quaker Boy has an unnatural appearance. The which, taken together, have produced an appear idea has arisen from his dress and his sedateness, ance of age above the youth in his countenance. have often been surprised to hear young Quakers talk of the folly and vanity of pursuits in which persons, older than themselves, were then embarking in pursuit of pleasure." &c. The basis of the Quaker morality seems evidently to be, that gaiety and merriment ought, upon all occasions, to be discouraged; that everything which tends merely to exhilaration or enjoyment, has in it a taint of criminality; and that one of the chief duties of man is to be always serious and solemn, We feel no admiration, we will confess, for and constantly occupied, either with his prodigies of this description; and think that worldly prosperity, or his eternal welfare. If the world is but little indebted to those moral. it were not for the attention which is thus ists, who, in their efforts to ameliorate our permitted to the accumulation of wealth, the condition, begin with constraining the volatile Quakers would scarcely be distinguishable spirit of childhood into sedateness, and extin from the other gloomy sectaries, who main-guishing the happy carelessness and anima tain, that man was put into this world for no tion of youth, by lessons of eternal quietness The next chapter is against music; and is, I recommendation which must operate in its faas might be expected, one of the most absurd vour, in the first instance at least, even with and extravagant of the whole. This is Mr. the most rigid moralist. The only sound or Clarkson's statement of the Quaker reasoning consistent form of the argument, in short, is against this delightful art. that which was manfully adopted by the mortified hermits of the early ages; but is expressly disclaimed for the Quakers by their present apologist, viz. that our well-being in this world is a matter of so very little concern, that it is altogether unworthy of a rea sonable being to bestow any care upon it; and that our chance of well-being in another world depends so much upon our anxious endeavours after piety upon earth, that it is our duty to employ every moment of our fleeting and uncertain lives in meditation and prayer; and consequently altogether sinful and imprudent to indulge any propensities which may interrupt those holy exercises, or beget in us any interest in sublunary things. Providence gave originally to man a beautiful and a perfect world. He filled it with things necessary, and things delightful: and yet man has often turned these from their true and original design. The very wood on the surface of the earth he has cut down, and the very stone and metal in its bowels he has hewn and cast, and converted into a graven image, and worshipped in the place of his beneficent Creator. The food which he has given him for his nourishment, he has frequently converted by his intemperance into the means of injuring his health. The wine, that was designed to make his heart glad, on reasonable and necessary occasions, he has used often to the stupefaction of his senses, and the degradation of his moral character. The very raiment, which has been afforded him for his body, he has abused also, so that it has frequently become a source for the excitement of his pride. Just so it has been, and so it is, with Music, at the present day." There is evidently a tacit aspiration after this sublime absurdity in almost all the Quaker prohibitions; and we strongly suspect, We do not think we ever before met with that honest George Fox, when he inhabited a an argument so unskilfully, or rather so pre- hollow tree in the vale of Beevor, taught nothposterously put: Since, if it follows, from these ing less to his disciples. The condemnation premises, that music ought to be entirely re- of music and dancing, and all idle speaking, jected and avoided, it must follow also, that was therefore quite consistent in him; but we should go naked, and neither eat nor drink! since the permission of gainful arts, and of and as to the arguments that follow against most of the luxuries which wealth can prothe cultivation of music, because there are cure, to his disciples, it is no longer so easy to some obscene and some bacchanalian songs, reconcile these condemnations, either to reawhich it would be improper for young persons son, or to the rest of their practice. A Quaker to learn, they are obviously capable of being may suspend all apparent care of his salvaused, with exactly the same force, against tion, and occupy himself entirely with his their learning to read, because there are im- worldly business, for six days in the week, moral and heretical books, which may possi- like any other Christian. It is even thought bly fall into their hands. The most authentic laudable in him to set an example of diligence and sincere reason, however, we believe, is and industry to those around him; and the one which rests immediately upon the gene- fruits of this industry he is by no means reral ascetic principle to which we have already quired to bestow in relieving the poor, or for made reference, viz. that "music tends to the promotion of piety. He is allowed to emself-gratification, which is not allowable in the ploy it for self-gratification, in almost every Christian system." Now, as this same self-way-but the most social and agreeable! He denying principle is really at the bottom of most of the Quaker prohibitions, it may be worth while to consider, in a few words, how far it can be reconciled to reason or morality. All men, we humbly conceive, are under the necessity of pursuing their own happiness; and cannot even be conceived as ever pursuing any thing else. The only difference between the sensualist and the ascetic is, that the former pursues an immediate, and the other a remote happiness; or, that the one pursues an intellectual, and the other a bodily gratification. The penitent who passes his days in mortification, does so unquestionably from the love of enjoyment; either because he thinks this the surest way to attain eternal happiness in a future world, or because he finds the admiration of mankind a sufficient compensation, even in this life, for the hardships by which he extorts it. It appears, therefore, that self-gratification, so far from being an unlawful object of pursuit, is necessarily the only object which a rational being can be conceived to pursue; and consequently, that to argue against any practice, merely that it is attended with enjoyment, is to give it a may keep an excellent table and garden, and be driven about in an easy chariot by a pious coachman and two, or even four, plump horses; but his plate must be without carving, and his carriage and horses (perhaps his flowers also) of a dusky colour. His guests may talk of oxen and broadcloth as long as they think fit, but wit and gaiety are entirely proscribed, and topics of literature but rarely allowed. His boys and girls are bred up to a premature knowledge of bargaining and housekeeping; but when their bounding spirits are struggling in every limb, they must not violate their sedateness by a single skip ;-their stillness must not be disturbed by raising their voices beyond their common pitch;-and they would be disowned, if they were to tune their innocent voices in a hymn to their great Benefactor! We cannot help saying, that all this is absurd and indefensible. Either let the Quakers renounce all the enjoyments of this life, or take all that are innocent. The pursuit of wealth surely holds out a greater temptation to immorality, than the study of music. Let them, then, either disown those who accuma. late more than is necessary for their subsist. 1 ence, or permit those who have leisure, to employ it in something better than moneygetting. To allow a man to have a house and retinue, from the expenses of which fifty poor families might be supported, and at the same time to interdict a fold in his coat, or a ruffle to his shirt, on account of their costliness and vanity, is as ridiculous, and as superstitious, as it is for the Church of Rome to permit one of her cardinals to sit down, on a meagre day, to fifty costly and delicious dishes of fish and pastry, while it excommunicates a peasant for breaking through the holy abstinence with a morsel of rusty bacon. With those general impressions, we shall easily dispose of their other peculiarities. The amusements of the theatre are strictly forbidden to Quakers of every description; and this, partly because many plays are immoral, but chiefly because, on the stage, men personate characters that are not their own; and thus become altogether sophisticated in their looks, words, and actions, which is contrary to the simplicity and truth required by Christianity!" We scarcely think the Quakers will be much obliged to Mr. Clarkson for imputing this kind of reasoning to them: And, for our own parts, we would much rather hear at once that the play-house was the Devil's drawing-room, and that the actors painted their faces, and therefore deserved the fate of Jezebel. As to the sin of personating characters not their own, and sophisticating their looks and words, it is necessarily committed by every man who reads aloud a Dialogue from the New Testament, or who adopts, from the highest authority, a dramatic form in his preaching. As to the other objection, that theatrical amusements produce too high a degree of excitement for the necessary sedateness of a good Christian, we answer, in the first place, that we do not see why a good Christian should be more sedate than his innocence and natural gaiety may dispose him to be; and, in the second place, that the objection proves Mr. Clarkson to be laudably ignorant of the state of the modern drama,-which, we are credibly informed, is by no means so extremely interesting, as to make men neglect their business and their duties to run after it. Next comes dancing.-The Quakers prohibit this strictly; 1st, because it implies the accompaniment of music, which has been already interdicted; 2dly, because "it is useless, and below the dignity of the Christian character;" 3dly, because it implies assemblies of idle persons, which lead to thoughtlessness as to the important duties of life; 4thly, because it gives rise to silly vanity, and envying, and malevolence. The lovers of dancing, we think, will be able to answer those objections without our farther assistance; such of them as have not been already obviated, are applicable, and are in fact applied by the Quakers, to every species of accomplishment. They are applicable also, though the Quakers do not so apply them, to all money-getting occupations in which there is room for rival;y and competition. The reading of novels is next prohibited, not so much, Mr. Clarkson assures us, on ar count of their fictitious nature, though that ground enough for the abhorrence of many Quakers, but on account of their general immorality, and their tendency to produce an undue excitement of mind, and to alienate the attention from objects of serious import. ance. These are good reasons against the reading of immoral novels, and against mak ing them our sole or our principal study. Other moralists are contented with selecting and limiting the novels they allow to be read. The Quakers alone make it an abomination to read any; which is like prohibiting all use of wine or animal food, instead of restricting our censures to the excess or abuse of them. Last of all, the sports of the field are prohibited, partly on account of the animal suffering they produce, and partly from the habits of idleness and ferocity which they are supposed to generate. This is Mr. Clarkson's account of the matter; but we shall probably form a more correct idea of the true Quaker principle, from being told that George Fox "considered that man in the fall, or the apos tate man, had a vision so indistinct and vitiated, that he could not see the animals of the creation as he ought; but that the man who was restored, or the spiritual Christian, had a new and clear discernment concerning them, which would oblige him to consider and treat them in a proper manner." The Quakers, however, allow the netting of animals for food; and cannot well object therefore to shooting them, provided it be done about for the same economical purpose, and not for self-gratification,-at least in the act of killing. Mr. Clarkson proceeds next to discuss the discipline, as he calls it, or interior government of the Quaker society; but we think it more natural to proceed to the consideration of what he announces as their peculiar cus toms, which, for any thing we see, might all have been classed among the prohibitions which constitute their moral education. The first, is the peculiarity of their dress. The original rule, he says, was only that it should be plain and cheap. He vindicates George Fox, we think very successfully, from the charge of having gone about in a leathern doublet; and maintains, that the present dress of the Quakers is neither more nor less than the common dress of grave and sober persons of the middling rank at the first institution of the society; and that they have retained it, not out of any superstitious opinion of its sanctity, but because they thought it would indicate a frivolous vanity to change it, unless for some reason of convenience. We should have thought it convenience enough to avoid singularity and misconstruction of motives. Except that the men now wear loops to their hats, and that the women have in a great measure given up their black hoods and green aprons, their costume is believed to be almost exactly the same as it was two hundred years ago. They have a similar rule as to their furniture; which, though sometimes elegant and costly, is uniformly plain, and free from glare or ostentation. In conformity with this principle, they do not decorate their houses with pictures or prints, and in general discourage the practice of taking portraits; for which piece of abstinence Mr. Clarkson gives the following simple reason. "The first Quakers considering themselves as poor helpless creatures, and as little better than dust and ashes, had but a mean idea of their own images !" The same observations apply to the other Quaker principle of refusing to call any man Mr. or Sir, or to subscribe themselves in their letters, as any man's humble servant. Their reasons for this refusal, are, first, that the common phrases import a falsehood; and, secondly, that they puff up vain man with conceit. Now, as to the falsehood, we have One of the most prominent peculiarities in to observe, that the words objected to, really the Quaker customs, relates to their language. do not mean any thing about bondage or doThey insist, in the first place, upon saying minion when used on those occasions; and thou instead of you; and this was an innova- neither are so understood, nor are in danger tion upon which their founder seems to have of being so understood, by any one who hears valued himself at least as much as upon any them. Words are significant sounds; and, other part of his system. "The use of thou," beyond question, it is solely in consequence says honest. George Fox, with visible com- of the meaning they convey, that men can be placency, was a sore cut to proud flesh!" responsible for using them. Now the only and many beatings, and revilings, and hours meaning which can be inquired after in this of durance in the stocks, did he triumphantly respect, is the meaning of the person who endure for his intrepid adherence to this gram- speaks, and of the person who hears; but matical propriety. Except that it is (or rather neither the speaker nor the hearer, with us, was) grammatically correct, we really can see understand the appellation of Mr., prefixed to no merit in this form of speech. The chief a man's name, to import any mastership or Quaker reason for it, however, is, that the use dominion in him relatively to the other. It is of "you" to a single person is a heinous piece merely a customary addition, which means of flattery, and an instance of the grossest nothing but that you wish to speak of the inand meanest adulation. It is obvious, how-dividual with civility. That the word emever, that what is applied to all men without ployed to signify this, is the same word, or exception, cannot well be adulation. If princes very near the same word, with one which, on and patrons alone were called "you," while other occasions, signifies a master over ser"thou" was still used to inferiors or equals, vants, does not at all affect its meaning upon we could understand why the levelling prin- this occasion. It does not, in fact, signify any ciple of the Quakers should set itself against such thing when prefixed to a man's proper the distinction; but if "you" be invariably name; and though it might have been used and indiscriminately used to the very lowest at first out of servility, with a view to that reof mankind,-to negroes, felons, and toad-lation, it is long since that connection has been eaters, it is perfectly obvious, that no per- lost; and it now signifies nothing but what is son's vanity can possibly be puffed up by re- perfectly true and correct. ceiving it; and that the most contemptuous Etymology can point out a multitude of misanthropist may employ it without any words which, with the same sound and orthoscruple. Comparing the said pronouns to-graphy, have thus come to acquire a variety gether, indeed, in this respect, it is notorious, that "thou" is, with us, by far the most flattering compellation of the two. It is the form in which men address the Deity; and in which all tragical love letters, and verses of solemn adulation, are conceived. "You" belongs unquestionably to familiar and equal conversation. In truth, it is altogether absurd to consider "you" as exclusively a plural pronoun in the modern English language. It may be a matter of history that it was originally used as a plural only; and it may be a matter of theory that it was first applied to individuals on a principle of flattery; but the fact is, that it is now our second person singular. When applied to an individual, it never excites any idea either of plurality or of adulation; but excites precisely and exactly the idea that was excited by the use of "thou" in an earlier stage of the language. There is no more impropriety in the use of it, therefore, than in the use of any modern term which has superseded an obsolete one; nor any more virtue in reviving the use of "thou," than there would be in reviving any other antiquated word. It would be just as reasonable to talk always of our doublets and hose, and eschew all mention of coats or stockings, as a fearful abomination. of significations, and which even the Quakers think it sufficiently lawful to use in them all. A stage, for example, signifies a certain distance on the road-or a raised platform-or a carriage that travels periodically-or a certain point in the progress of any affair. It could easily be shown, too, that all these different meanings spring from each other, and were gradually attributed to what was originally one and the same word. The words, however, are now substantially multiplied, to correspond with the meanings; and though they have the same sound and orthography, are never confounded by any one who is acquainted with the language. But there is, in fact, the same difference between the word master, implying power and authority over servants, and the word Master or Mister prefixed to a proper name, and implying merely a certain degree of respect and civility. That there is no deception either intended or effected, must be admitted by the Quakers themselves; and it is not easy to conceive how the guilt of falsehood can be incurred without some such intention. Upon the very same principle, they would themselves be guilty of falsehood, if they called a friend by his name of Walker, when he was mounted in his one-horse chaise, or by his name of |