A Portraiture of Quakerism, Volume II (of 3) by Thomas Clarkson

T >> Thomas Clarkson >> A Portraiture of Quakerism, Volume II (of 3)

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

SECT. III.

_But though persons are thus disowned, they may be restored to
membership--Generally understood, however, that they must previously
express their repentance for their marriages--This confession of
repentance censured by the world--But is admissible without the
criminality supposed--The word repentance misunderstood by the world._

But though the Quakers may disown such as marry out of their society, it
does not follow that these may not be reinstated as members. If these
should conduct themselves after their disownment in an orderly manner,
and, still retaining their attachment to the society, should bring up
their children in the principles and customs of it, they may, if they
apply for restoration, obtain it, with all their former privileges and
rights.

The children also of such as marry out of the society, though they are
never considered to be members of it, may yet become so in particular
cases. The society advises that the monthly meetings, should extend a
tender care towards such children, and that they should be admitted
into membership at the discretion of the said meetings, either in
infancy or in maturer age.

But here I must stop to make a few observations, on an opinion which
prevails upon this subject. It is generally understood that the Quakers,
in their restoration of disowned persons to membership, require them
previously and publicly to acknowledge, that they have _repented_ of
their marriages. This obligation to make this public confession of
repentance, has given to many a handle for heavy charges against them.
Indeed I scarcely know, in any part of the Quaker-system, where people
are louder in their censures, than upon this point. "A man, they say,
cannot express his penitence for his marriage without throwing a stigma
upon his wife. To do this is morally wrong, if he has no fault to find
with her. To do it, even if she has been in fault, is indelicate. And
not to do it, is to forego his restoration to membership. This law
therefore of the Quakers is considered to be immoral, because it may
lead both to hypocrisy and falsehood."

I shall not take up much time in correcting the notions that have gone
abroad on this subject.

Of those who marry out of the society, it may be presumed that there are
some, who were never considered to be sound in the Quaker-principles,
and these are generally they who intermarry with the world. Now they,
who compose this class, generally live after their marriages, as happily
out of the society as when they were in it. Of course, these do not
repent of the change. And if they do not repent, they never sue for
restoration to membership. They cannot, therefore, incur any of the
charges in question. Nor can the society be blamed in this case, who, by
never asking them to become members, never entice them to any
objectionable repentance.

Of those again, who marry out of the society, there may be individuals,
so attached to its communion, that it was never imagined they would have
acted in this manner. Now of these, it may in general be said, that they
often bitterly repent. They find, soon or late, that the opposite
opinions and manners, to be found in their union, do not harmonize. And
here it may be observed, that it is very possible, that such persons may
say they repent without any crimination of their wives. A man, for
instance, may have found in his wife all the agreeableness of temper,
all the domestic virtue and knowledge, all the liberality of religious
opinion, which he had anticipated; but in consequence of the mixed
principles resulting from mixed marriages, or of other unforeseen
causes, he may be so alarmed about the unsteady disposition of his
children and their future prospects, that the pain which he feels on
these accounts may overbalance the pleasure, which he acknowledges in
the constant prudence, goodness, solicitude, and affection, of his wife.
This may be so much the case, that all her consolatory offices may not
be able to get the better of his grief. A man, therefore, in such
circumstances, may truly repent of his marriage, or that he was ever the
father of such children, though he can never complain as the husband of
such a wife.

The truth, however, is, that those who make the charge in question, have
entirely misapplied the meaning of the word _repent_. People are not
called upon to express their sorrow, for _having married the objects of
their choice_, but for _having violated those great tenets of the
society_, which have been already mentioned, and which form
distinguishing characteristics between Quakerism and the religion of the
world. Those, therefore, who say they repent, say no more than what any
other persons might be presumed to say, who had violated the religious
tenets of any other society to which they might have belonged, or who
had flown in the face of what they had imagined to be religious truths.

SECT. IV.

_Of persons, disowned for marriage, the greater proportion is said to
consist of women--Causes assigned for this difference of number in the
two sexes._

It will perhaps appear a curious fact to the world, but I am told it is
true, that the number of the women, disowned for marrying out of the
society, far exceeds the number of the men, who are disowned on the same
account.

It is not difficult, if the fact be as it is stated, to assign a reason
for this difference of number in the two sexes.

When men wish to marry, they wish, at least if they are men of sense, to
find such women as are virtuous; to find such as are prudent and
domestic, and such as have a proper sense of the folly and dissipation
of the Fashionable world; such in fact as will make good mothers and
good wives. Now if a Quaker looks into his own society, he will
generally find the female part of it of this description. Female Quakers
excel in these points. But if he looks into the world at large, he will
in general find a contrast in the females there. These, in general, are
but badly educated. They are taught to place a portion of their
happiness in finery and show: utility is abandoned for fashion: The
knowledge of the etiquette of the drawing-room usurps the place of the
knowledge of the domestic duties: A kind of false and dangerous taste
predominates: Scandal and the card-table are preferred to the pleasures
of a rural walk: Virtue and Modesty are seen with only half their
energies, being overpowered by the noxiousness of novel-reading
principles, and by the moral taint which infects those who engage in the
varied rounds of a fashionable life. Hence a want of knowledge, a love
of trifles, and a dissipated turn of mind, generally characterize those
who are considered as having had the education of the world.

We see therefore a good reason why Quaker-men should confine themselves
in their marriages to their own society. But the same reason, which thus
operates with Quaker-men in the choice of Quaker-women, operates with
men who are not of the society, in choosing them also for their wives.
These are often no strangers to the good education, and to the high
character, of the Quaker-females. Fearful often of marrying among the
badly educated women of their own persuasion, they frequently address
themselves to this society, and not unfrequently succeed.

To this it may be added, that if Quaker-men were to attempt to marry out
of their own society, they would not in general be well received. Their
dress and their manners are considered as uncouth in the eyes of the
female-world, and would present themselves as so many obstacles in the
way of their success. The women of this description generally like a
smart and showy exterior. They admire heroism and spirit. But neither
such an exterior, nor such spirit, are to be seen in the Quaker-men. The
dress of the Quaker-females, on the other hand, is considered as neat
and elegant, and their modesty and demeanor as worthy of admiration.
From these circumstances they captivate. Hence the difference, both in
the inward and outward person, between the men and the women of this
society, renders the former not so pleasing, while it renders the latter
objects of admiration, and even choice.

CHAP. II.

SECTION I.

_Funerals--Most nations have paid extravagant attention to their
dead--The moderns follow their example--This extravagance, or the
pageantry of funerals, discarded by the Quakers--Their reasons for
it--Plainness of Quaker-funerals._

If we look into the history of the world, we shall find, from whatever
cause it has arisen, whether from any thing connected with our moral
feelings, such as love, gratitude, or respect, or from vanity, or
ostentation, that almost all nations, where individuals have been able
to afford it, have incurred considerable expense in the interment of
their dead. The Greeks were often very extravagant in their funerals.
Many persons, ornamented with garlands, followed the corpse, while
others were employed in singing and dancing before it. At the funerals
of the great, among the Romans, couches were carried, containing the
waxen or other images of the family of the deceased, and hundreds joined
in the procession. In our own times, we find a difference in the manner
of furnishing or decorating funerals, though but little in the intention
of making them objects of outward show. A bearer of plumes precedes the
procession. The horses employed are dressed in trappings. The hearse
follows ornamented with plumes of feathers, and gilded and silvered with
gaudy escutcheons, or the armorial bearings of the progenitors of the
deceased. A group of hired persons range themselves on each side of the
hearse and attendant carriages, while others close the procession. These
again are all of them clad in long cloaks, or furnished, in regular
order, with scarfs and hat-bands. Now all these outward appendages,
which may be called the pageantry of funerals, the Quakers have
discarded, from the time of their institution, in the practice of the
burial of their dead.

The Quakers are of opinion, that funeral processions should be made, if
any thing is to be made of them, to excite serious reflections, and to
produce lessons of morality in those who see them. This they conceive to
be best done by depriving the dead body of all ornaments and outward
honours. For, stripped in this manner, they conceive it to approach the
nearest to its native worthlessness or dust. Such funerals, therefore,
may excite in the spectator a deep sense of the low and debased
condition of man. And his feelings will be pure on the occasion, because
they will be unmixed with the consideration of the artificial
distinctions of human life. The spectator too will be more likely, if he
sees all go undistinguished to the grave, to deduce for himself the
moral lesson, that there is no true elevation of one above another, only
as men follow the practical duties of virtue and religion. But what
serious reflections, or what lessons of morality, on the other hand, do
the funerals of the world produce, if accompanied with pomp and
splendour? To those who have sober and serious minds, they produce a
kind of pity, that is mingled with disgust. In those of a ludicrous
turn, they provoke ludicrous ideas, when they see a dead body attended
with such extravagant parade. To the vulgar and the ignorant no one
useful lesson is given. Their senses are all absorbed in the show; and
the thoughts of the worthlessness of man, as well as of death and the
grave, which ought naturally to suggest themselves on such occasions,
are swallowed up in the grandeur and pageantry of the procession.
Funerals, therefore, of this kind, are calculated to throw honour upon
riches, abstractedly of moral merit; to make the creature of as much
importance when dead as when alive; to lessen the humility of man; and
to destroy, of course, the moral and religious feelings that should
arise upon such occasions. Add to which, that such a conduct among
christians must be peculiarly improper; for the christian dispensation
teaches man, that he is "to work out his salvation with fear and
trembling." It seems inconsistent, therefore, to accompany with all the
outward signs of honour and greatness the body of a poor wretch, who has
had this difficult and awful task to perform, and who is on his last
earthly journey, previously to his appearance before the tribunal of the
Almighty to be judged for the deeds which he has committed in the flesh.

Actuated by such sentiments as these, the Quakers have discarded all
parade at their funerals. When they die, they are buried in a manner
singularly plain. The corpse is deposited in a plain coffin. When
carried to the meeting-house or grave-yard, it is attended by relations
and friends. These have nothing different at this time in their external
garments from their ordinary dress. Neither man nor horse is apparelled
for the purpose. All pomp and parade, however rich the deceased may have
been, are banished from their funeral processions. The corpse, at
length, arrives at the meeting-house[2]. It is suffered to remain there
in the sight of the spectators. The congregation then sit in silence, as
at a meeting for worship. If any one feels himself induced to speak, he
delivers himself accordingly; if not, no other rite is used at this
time. In process of time the coffin is taken out of the meeting-house,
and carried to the grave. Many of the acquaintances of the deceased,
both Quakers and others, follow it. It is at length placed by the side
of the grave. A solemn, silent pause, immediately takes place. It is
then interred. Another shorter pause then generally follows. These
pauses are made, that the "spectators may be more deeply touched with a
sense of their approaching exit, and their future state." If a minister
or other person, during these pauses, have any observation or
exhortation to make, which is frequently the case, he makes it. If no
person should feel himself impressed to speak, the assembled persons
depart. The act of seeing the body deposited in the grave, is the last
public act of respect which the Quakers show to their deceased
relations. This is the whole process of a Quaker-funeral.

[Footnote 2: It is sometimes buried without being carried there.]

SECT. II.

_Quakers use no vaults in their burying-grounds--Relations sometimes
buried near each other, but oftener otherwise--They use no tomb-stones
or monumental inscriptions--Reasons for this disuse--But they sometimes
record accounts of the lives, deaths, and dying sayings, of their
Ministers._

The Quakers, in the infancy of their institution, were buried in their
gardens, or orchards, or in the fields and premises of one another. They
had at that time no grave-yards of their own; and they refused to be
buried in those of the church, lest they should thus acknowledge the
validity of an human appointment of the priesthood, the propriety of
payment for gospel-labour, and the peculiar holiness of consecrated
ground. This refusal to be buried within the precincts of the church,
was considered as the bearing of their testimony for truth. In process
of time they raised their own meeting-houses, and had their respective
burying places. But these were not always contiguous, but sometimes at a
distance from one another, The Quakers have no sepulchres or arched
vaults under ground for the reception of their dead. There has been here
and there a vault, and there is here and there a grave with sides of
brick; but the coffins, containing their bodies, are usually committed
to the dust.

I may observe also, that the Quakers are sometimes buried near their
relations, but more frequently otherwise. In places where the
Quaker-population is thin, and the burial ground large, a relation is
buried next to a relation, if it be desired. In other places, however,
the graves are usually dug in rows, and the bodies deposited in them,
not as their relations lie, but as they happen to be opened in
succession without any attention to family connexions. When the first
grave in the row is opened and filled, the person who dies next, is put
into that which is next to it; and the person who dies next, occupies
that which is next to the second[3]. It is to many an endearing thought,
that they shall lie after their death, near the remains of those whom
they loved in life. But the Quakers, in general, have not thought it
right or wise to indulge such feelings. They believe that all good men,
however their bodies may be separated in their subterraneous houses of
clay, will assuredly meet at the resurrection of the just.

[Footnote 3: By this process a small piece of ground is longer in
filling, no room being lost, and the danger and disagreeable necessity
of opening graves before the bodies in them are decayed, is avoided.]

The Quakers also reject the fashions of the world in the use of
tomb-stones and monumental inscriptions. These are generally supposed to
be erected out of respect to the memory or character of the deceased.
The Quakers, however, are of opinion, that this is not the proper manner
of honouring the dead. If you wish to honour a good man, who has
departed this life, let all his good actions live in your memory; let
them live in your grateful love and esteem; so cherish them in your
heart, that they may constantly awaken you to imitation. Thus you will
show, by your adoption of his amiable example, that you really respect
his memory. This is also that tribute, which, if he himself could be
asked in the other world how he would have his memory respected in this,
he would prefer to any description of his virtues, that might be given
by the ablest writer, or handed down to posterity by the ablest monument
of the sculptor's art.

But the Quakers have an objection to the use of tomb-stones and
monumental inscriptions, for other reasons. For, where pillars of
marble, abounding with panegyric, and decorated in a splendid manner,
are erected to the ashes of dead men, there is a danger, lest, by making
too much of these, a superstitious awe should be produced, and a
superstitious veneration should attach to them. The early Christians, by
making too much of the relics of their saints or pious men, fell into
such errors.

The Quakers believe, again, that if they were to allow the custom of
these outward monuments to obtain among them, they might be often led,
as the world is, and by the same causes, to a deviation from the truth;
for it is in human nature to praise those whom we love, but more
particularly when we have lost them. Hence, we find often such
extravagant encomiums upon the dead, that if it were possible for these
to be made acquainted with them, they would show their disapprobation of
such records. Hence we find also, that "as false as an epitaph," has
become a proverbial expression.

But even in the case where nothing more is said upon the tomb-stone than
what Moses said of Seth, and of Enos, and of Cainan, and others, when he
reckoned up the genealogy of Adam, namely, that "they lived and that
they died," the Quakers do not approve of such memorials. For these
convey no merit of the deceased, by which his example should be
followed. They convey no lesson of morality: and in general they are not
particularly useful. They may serve perhaps to point out to surviving
relations, the place where the body of the deceased was buried, so that
they may know where to mark out the line for their own graves. But as
the Quakers in general have overcome the prejudice of "sleeping with
their fathers," such memorials cannot be so useful to them.

The Quakers, however, have no objection, if a man has conducted himself
particularly well in life, that a true statement should be made
concerning him, provided such a statement would operate as a lesson of
morality to others; but they think that the tomb-stone is not the best
medium of conveying it. They are persuaded that very little moral
advantage is derived to the cursory readers of epitaphs, or that they
can trace their improvement in morals to this source. Sensible, however,
that the memorials of good men may be made serviceable to the rising
generation, ("and there are no ideas, says Addison, which strike more
forcibly on our imaginations, than those which are raised from
reflections upon the exits of great and excellent men,") they are
willing to receive accounts of the lives, deaths, and remarkable dying
sayings, of those ministers in their own society, who have been eminent
for their labours. These are drawn up by individuals, and presented to
the monthly meetings, to which the deceased belonged. But here they must
undergo an examination before they are passed. The truth of the
statement, and the utility of the record, must appear. It then falls to
the quarterly meetings to examine them again, and these may alter, or
pass, or reject them, as it may appear to be most proper. If these
should pass them, they are forwarded to the yearly meeting. Many of
them, after this, are printed; and, finding their way into the bookcases
of the Quakers, they become collected essays of morality, and operate as
incitements to piety to the rising youth. Thus the memorials of men are
made useful by the Quakers in an unobjectionable manner; for the
falsehood and flattery of epitaphs are thus avoided; none but good men
having been selected, whose virtues, if they are recorded, can be
perpetuated with truth.

SECT. III.

_They discard also mourning garments--These are only emblems of
sorrow--and often make men pretend to be what they are not--This
contrary to Christianity--Thus they may become little better than
disguised pomp, or fashionable forms--This instanced in the changes and
duration of common mourning--and in the custom also of court-mourning
--Ramifications of the latter._

As the Quakers neither allow of the tomb-stones, nor the monumental
inscriptions, so they do not allow of the mourning garments of the
world.

They believe there can be no true sorrow but in the heart, and that
there can be no other true outward way of showing it than by fulfilling
the desires, and by imitating the best actions, of those whom men have
lost and loved. "The mourning, says William Penn, which it is fit for a
Christian to have on the departure of beloved relations and friends,
should be worn in the mind, which is only sensible of the loss. And the
love which men have had to these, and their remembrance of them, should
be outwardly expressed by a respect to their advice, and care of those
they have left behind them, and their love of that which they loved."

But mourning garments, the Quakers contend, are only emblems of sorrow.
They will therefore frequently be used, where no sorrow is. Many persons
follow their deceased relatives to the grave, whose death, in point of
gain, is a matter of real joy; witness young spendthrifts, who have been
raising sum after sum on expectation, and calculating with voracious
anxiety, the probable duration of their relations' lives. And yet all
these follow the corpse to the grave, with white handkerchiefs, mourning
habits, slouched hats, and dangling hat-bands. Mourning garments,
therefore, frequently make men pretend to be what they are not. But no
true or consistent Christian can exhibit an outward appearance to the
world, which his inward feelings do not justify.

It is not contended here by the Quakers, that because a man becomes
occasionally a hypocrite, this is a sufficient objection against any
system; for a man may be an Atheist even in a Quaker's garb. Nor is it
insinuated, that individuals do not sometimes feel in their hearts, the
sorrow which they purpose to signify by their clothing. But it is
asserted to be true, that men who use mourning habits as they are
generally used, do not wear them for those deceased persons only whom
they loved, and abstain from the use of them where they had no esteem,
but that they wear them promiscuously on all the occasions which have
been dictated by fashion. Mourning habits therefore, in consequence of a
long system of etiquette, have become, in the opinion of the Quakers,
but little better than _disguised pomp_, or _fashionable forms_.

I shall endeavour to throw some light upon this position of the Quakers,
by looking into the practice of the world.

In the first place, there are seasons there, when full mourning, and
seasons when only half mourning, is to be worn. Thus the habit is
changed, and for no other reason, than that of conformity with the laws
of fashion. The length of this time also, or season of mourning, is made
to depend upon the scale of men's affinity to the deceased; though
nothing can be more obvious, than that men's affection for the living,
and that their sorrow for them when dead, cannot be measured by this
standard. Hence the very time that a man shall mourn, and the very time
that he shall only half-mourn, and the very time that he shall cease to
mourn, is fixed for him by the world, whatever may be the duration of
his own sorrow.

In court-mourning also, we have an instance of men being instructed to
mourn, where their feelings are neither interested nor concerned. In
this case, the _disguised pomp_, spoken of by the Quakers, will be more
apparent. Two princes have perhaps been fighting with each other for a
considerable portion of their reigns. The blood of their subjects has
been spilled, and their treasures have been exhausted. They have
probably had, during all this time, no kind disposition one towards
another, each considering the other as the aggressor, or as the author
of the war. When both have been wearied out with expense, they have made
peace. But they have still mutual jealousies and fears. At length one of
them dies. The other, on receiving an express relative to the event,
orders mourning for the deceased for a given time. As other potentates
receive the intelligence, they follow the example. Their several levees
or drawing-rooms, or places of public audience, are filled with
mourners. Every individual of each sex, who is accustomed to attend
them, is now habited in black. Thus a round of mourning is kept up by
the courtiers of Europe, not by means of any sympathetic beating of the
heart, but at the sound, as it were, of the postman's horn.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19