of one hundred and fifty pages o which we must satisfy ourselves, for the present, with making this general reference. We must use the same liberty with the "miscellaneous particulars," which fill nearly as many pages with an attempt to prove that the Quakers are a very happy people, that they have done good by the example of their virtues, and that those who have thoughts of leaving the society, had better think twice before they take a step of so much consequence. We come now to say a few words on the subject of their interior government; which appears to us to be formed very much upon the model of the Presbyterian churches so long established in this part of the kingdom. The basis of the whole system is, that every member of the society is not only entitled, but bound in duty, to watch over the moral and religious deportment of any other whom he has an opportunity of observing, and to interfere for his admonition and correction when he sees cause. Till the year 1698, this duty was not peculiarly imposed upon any individual; but, since that time, four or five persons are named in each congregation, under the title of overseers, who are expected to watch over the conduct of the flock with peculiar anxiety. The half of these are women, who take charge of their own sex only. Four or five congregations are associated together, and hold general monthly meeting of deputies, of both sexes, from each congregation. Two or more of each sex are deputed from these monthly meetings to the general quarterly meeting; which reunites all the congregations of a county, or larger district, according to the extent of the Quaker population; and those, again, send four of each sex to the great yearly meeting or convocation; which is regularly assembled in London, and continues its sitting for ten or twelve days. a The method of proceeding, where the conduct of a member has been disorderly, is, first, by private admonition, either by individuals, or by the overseers; where this is not effectual, the case is reported to the monthly meeting; who appoint a committee to deal with him, and, upon their report, either receive him back into communion, or expel him from the society by a written document, entitled, A Testimony of Disownment. From this sentence, however, he may appeal to the quarterly meeting, and from that to the yearly. These courts of review investigate the case by means of committees; of which none of those who pror.ounced the sentence complained of can be members. In the monthly meetings, all presentations pares, in its turn, a more general and compre hensive report for the great annual meeting in London. This assembly, again, hears ap peals from the quarterly meetings, and receives their reports; and, finally, draws up a public or pastoral letter to the whole society, in which it communicates the most interesting particulars, as to its general state and cordi tion, that have been collected from the reports laid before it, makes such suitable admonitions and exhortations for their moral and civil conduct; as the complexion of the times, or the nature of these reports have suggested,and recommends to their consideration any project or proposition that may have been laid before it, for the promotion of religion, and the good of mankind. The slave-trade has, of late years, generally formed one of the topics of this general epistle, which is printed and circulated throughout the society. In all their meetings, the male and female deputies assemble, and transact their business, in separate apartments; meeting together only for worship, or for making up their general reports. The wants of the poor are provided for by the monthly meetings, who appoint certain overseers to visit and relieve them: The greater part of these overseers are women; and whatever they find wanting in the course of their visits, money, clothes, or medicines, they or der, and their accounts are settled by the treasurer of the monthly meeting. Where it happens that there are more poor in any one district than can easily be relieved by the more opulent brethren within it, the deficiency is supplied by the quarterly meeting to which it is subjected. The children of the poor are all taught to read and write at the public expense, and afterwards bound apprentice to trades; the females are generally destined for service, and placed in Quaker families. Such," says Mr. Clarkson. with a very natural exultation on the good management of his favourites, "such is the organisation of the discipline of government of the Quakers. Nor may it improp erly be called a Government, when we consider, that, besides all matters relating to the church, it takes cognisance of the actions of Quakers to Quakers, and of these to their fellow-citizens; and of these, again, to the state; in fact, of all actions of Quakers, if immoral in the eye of the society, as soon as they are known. It gives out its prohibi tions. It marks its crimes. It imposes offices on its subjects. It calls them to disciplinary duties. This government, however, notwithstanding its power, has, as I observed before, no president of head, either permanent or temporary. There is no first man through the whole society. Neither bas it any badge of office-or mace, or constable's staff, or sword. It may be observed, also, that it has no office of emolument by which its hands can be strengthened-neither minister, elder, clerk, over seer, or deputy, being paid and yet its administration is firmly conducted, and its laws are better obeyed than laws by persons under any other de nomination or government." I. 246, 247. of marriages are received, and births and funerals registered;-contributions and arrangements are made for the relief of the poo.;persons are disowned, or received back; and cases of scruples are stated and discussed. They likewise prepare answers to a series of standing queries as to the state and condition of their several congregations, which they transmit to the quarterly meeting. The quarterly meeting hears appeals, receives the reports in answer to these queries, and pre-Imal we cannot help saying that most of We have nothing now to discuss with these good people, but their religion: and with this we will not meddle. It is quite clear to us, that their founder George Fox was exceedingly insane; and though we by no means suspect many of his present followers of the same their peculiar doctrines are too high-flown for Upon the whole, we are inclined to believe the Quakers to be a tolerably honest, painstaking, and inoffensive set of Christians. Very stupid, dull, and obstinate, we presume, in conversation; and tolerably lumpish and fatiguing in domestic society: active and me society; but cold in their affections, and inwardly chilled into a sort of Chinese apathy, by the restraints to which they are continually subjected; childish and absurd in their religious scruples and peculiar usages, and singularly unlearned as a sect of theologians; but exemplary, above all other sects, for the decency of their lives, for their charitable indulgence to all other persuasions, for their care of their poor, and for the liberal participation they have afforded to their women in all the duties and honours of the society. We would not willingly insinuate any thing against the general sincerity of those who remain in communion with this body; but Mr. Clarkson has himself noticed, that when they become opulent, they are very apt to fall off from it; and indeed we do not recollect ever to have seen either a Quaker gentleman of fortune, or a Quaker day-labourer. The truth is, that ninety-nine out of a hundred of them are engaged in trade; and as they all deal and correspond with each other, it is easy to see what advantages they must have as traders, from belonging to so great a corporation. A few follow the medical profession; and a still smaller number that of conveyancing; but they rely, in both, almost exclusively on the support of their brethren of the society. It is rather remarkable, that Mr. Clarkson has not given us any sort of estimate or calculation of their present numbers in England; though, from the nature of their government, it must thodical in their business, and narrow-minded be known to most of their leading members. and ill-informed as to most other particulars: It is the general opinion, it seems, that they beneficent from habit and the discipline of the I are gradually diminishing. (July, 1813.) Memoirs of the Private and Public Life of William Penn. By THOMAS CLARKSON, M. A. 8vo. 2 vols. pp. 1020. London: 1813. It is impossible to look into any of Mr. Clarkson's books, without feeling that he is an excellent man-and a very bad writer. Many of the defects of his composition, indeed, seem to be directly referrible to the amiableness of his disposition. An earnestness for truth and virtue, that does not allow him to waste any thought upon the ornaments by which they may be recommended-and a simplicity of character which is not aware that what is substantially respectable may be made dull or ridiculous by the manner in which it is presented-are virtues which we suspect not to have been very favourable to his reputation as an author. Feeling in himself not only an entire toleration of honest tediousness, but a decided preference for it upon all occasions over mere elegance or ingenuity, he seems to have transferred a little too hastily to books those principles of judgment which are admi whatsoever. Unfortunately for Mr. Clarkson, moral qualities alone will not make a good writer; nor are they even of the first importance on such an occasion: And accordingly, with all his philanthropy, piety, and inflexible honesty, he has not escaped the sin of tedionsness, and that to a degree that must render him almost illegible to any but Quakers, Reviewers, and others, who make public profes sion of patience insurmountable. He has no taste, and no spark of vivacity-not the vestige of an ear for harmony-and a prolixity of which modern times have scarcely preserved any other example. He seems to have a suffi ciently sound and clear judgment, but no great acuteness of understanding; and, though visibly tasking himself to judge charitably and speak candidly of all men, is evidently beset with such antipathy to all who persecute Quakers, or maltreat negroes, as to make him. rable when applied to men; and to have for- very unwilling to report any thing in their fagotten, that though dulness may be a very vour. On the other hand, he has great invenia. fault in a good man, it is such a fault dustry-scrupulous veracity-and that serious a book as to render its goodness of no avail and sober enthusiasm for his subject, which the measures he had adopted, it was no less na-render it far more legible than the pious extural that the good Admiral should give him a hortations and pertinacious polemics which good box on the ear, and turn him to the door. fill the greater part of his subsequent publica tions. In his love of controversy and of print- Mayor and Recorder for preaching in a Quaing, indeed, this worthy sectary seems to have ker meeting. He afterwards published an acbeen the very PRIESTLEY of the 17th century. count of this proceeding; and it is in our He not only responded in due form to every opinion one of the most curious and instruc is sure in the long run to disarm ridicule, and win upon inattention and is frequently able to render vulgarity impressive, and simplicity sublime. Moreover, and above all, he is perfectly free from affectation; so that, though we may be wearied, we are never disturbed or offended-and read on, in tranquillity, till we find it impossible to real any inore. It will be guessed, however, that it is not on account of its literary merits that we are induced to take notice of the work before us. WILLIAM PENN, to whose honour it is wholly devoted, was, beyond all doubt, a personage of no ordinary standard-and ought, before this time, to have met with a biographer capable of doing him justice. He is most known, and most deserving of being known, as the settler of Pennsylvania; but his private character also is interesting, and full of those peculiarities which distinguished the temper and manners of a great part of the English nation at the period in which he lived. His theological and polemical exploits are no less characteristic of the man and of the times;-though all that is really edifying in this part of his history might have been given in about onetwentieth part of the space which is allotted to it in the volumes of Mr. Clarkson. William Penn was born in 1644, the only son of Admiral Sir W. Penn, the representative of an ancient and honourable family in Buckingham and Gloucestershire. He was regularly educated; and entered a Gentleman Commoner at Christ's Church, Oxford, where he distinguished himself very early for his proficiency both in classical learning and athletic exercises. When he was only about sixteen, however, he was roused to a sense of the corruptions of the established faith, by the preaching of one Thomas Loe, a Quaker and immediately discontinued his attendance at shapel; and, with some other youths of his own way of thinking, began to hold prayer meetings in their private apartments. This, of course, gave great scandal and offence to his academical superiors; and a large fine, with suitable admonitions, were imposed on the young nonconformist. Just at this critical period, an order was unluckily received from Court to resume the use of the surplice, which it seems had been discontinued almost ever since the period of the Reformation; and the sight of this unfortunate vestment, "operated," as Mr. Clarkson expresses it, "so disagreeably on William Penn, that he could not bear it! and, joining himself with some other young gentlemen, he fell upon those students who appeared in surplices, and tore them every where over their heads." This, we conceive, was not quite correct, even as a Quaker proceeding; and was but an unpromising beginning for the future champion of religious liberty. Its natural consequence, nowever, was, that he and his associates were, without further ceremony, expelled from the University; and when he went home to his father, and attempted to justify by argument This course of discipline, however, rot proving immediately effectual, he was sent upon his travels, along with some other yourg gentlemen, and resided for two years in France, and the Low Countries; but without any change either in those serious views of reli gion, or those austere notions of morality, by which his youth had been so prematurely dis tinguished. On his return, his father again endeavoured to subdue him to a more worldly frame of mind; first, by setting him to study law at Lincoln's Inn; and afterwards, by sending him to the Duke of Ormond's court at Dublin, and giving him the charge of his large possessions in that kingdom. These expedi ents might perhaps have been attended with success, had he not accidentally again fallen in (at Cork) with his old friend Thomas Loe. the Quaker, who set before him such a view of the dangers of his situation, that he seems from that day forward to have renounced all secular occupations, and betaken himself to devotion, as the main business of his life. The reign of Charles II., however, was not auspicious to dissenters; and in those evil days of persecution, he was speedily put in prison for attending Quaker meetings; tut was soon liberated, and again came back to his father's house, where a long disputation took place upon the subject of his new creed. It broke up with this moderate and very loval proposition on the part of the Vice-Admiralthat the young Quaker should consent to sit with his hat off, in presence of the King-the Duke of York-and the Admiral himself! in return for which slight compliance, it was stipulated that he should be no longer molested for any of his opinions or practices. The heroic convert, however, would listen to το terms of composition; and, after taking some days to consider of it, reported, that his conscience could not comport with any species of Hat worship-and was again turned out of doors for his pains. He now took openly to preaching in the Quaker meetings; and shortly after began that course of theological and controversial publications, in which he persisted to his dying days; and which has had the effect of overwhelming his memory with two vast fole volumes of Puritanical pamphlets. His most considerable work seems to have been that entitled, "No Cross, no Crown;" in which he not only explains and vindicates, at great length, the grounds of the peculiar doctrines and observances of the Society to which he belonged, but endeavours to show, by a very large and entertaining induction of instances from profane history, that the same general principles had been adopted and acted upen by the wise and good in every generation; and were suggested indeed to the reflecting mind by the inward voice of conscience, and the analogy of the whole visible scheme of God's providence in the government of the world. The intermixture of worldly learning, and the larger and bolder scope of this performance, work in which the principles of his sect were directly or indirectly attacked, but whenever he heard a sermon that he did not like,or learned that any of the Friends had been put in the stocks; whenever he was prevented from preaching, or learned any edifying particulars of the death of a Quaker, or a persecutor of Quakers, he was instantly at the press, with a letter, or a narrative, or an admonition-and never desisted from the contest till he had reduced the adversary to silence. of The members of the established Church, indeed, were rarely so unwary as to make any rejoinder; and most of his disputes, accordingly, were with rival sectaries; in whom the spirit of proselytism and jealous zeal is always stronger than in the members of a larger and more powerful body. They were not always contented indeed with the regular and general war of the press, but frequently challenged each other to personal combat, in the form of solemn and public disputations. William Penn had the honour of being repeatedly appointed the champion of the Quakers in these theological duels; and never failed, according to his partial biographer, completely to demolish his opponent;-though it appears that he did not always meet with perfectly fair play, and that the chivalrous law of arms was by no means correctly observed in these ghostly encounters. His first set to, was with one Vincent, the oracle of a neighbouring congregation of Presbyterians; and affords rather a ludicrous example of the futility and indecorum which are apt to characterise all such exhibitions.After the debate had gone on for some time, Vincent made a long discourse, in which he openly accused the Quakers of blasphemy; and as soon as he had done, he made off, and desired all his friends to follow him. Penn insisted upon being heard in reply: but the Presbyterian troops pulled him down by the skirts; and proceeding to blow out the can dles, (for the battle had already lasted till midnight,) left the indignant orator in utter darkness! He was not to be baffled or appalled, however, by a privation of this description; and accordingly went on to argue and retort in the dark, with such force and effect, that it was thought advisable to send out for his fugitive opponent, wh who, after some time, reappeared with a candle in his hand, and begged that the debate might be adjourned to another day. But he could never be prevailed on, Mr. Clarkson assures us, to renew the combat; and Penn, after going and defying him in his own meeting-house, had recourse, as usual, to the press; and put forth "The Sandy Foundation Shaken," for which ne had the pleasure of being committed to the Tower, on the instigation of the Bishop of London; and solaced himself, during his confinement, by writing six other pamphlets. Soon after his deliverance, he was again aken up, and brought to trial before the Lord tive pieces that ever came from his pen. The times to which it relates, are sufficiently known to have been times of gross oppression and judicial abuse; -but the brutality of the Court upon this occasion seems to us to exceed any thing that is recorded elsewhere ;and the noble firmness of the jury still de. serves to be remembered, for example to happier days. The prisoner came into court, according to Quaker costume, with his hat on his head;-but the doorkeeper, with a due zeal for the dignity of the place, pulled it off as he entered.- Upon this, however, the Lord Mayor became quite furious, and ordered the unfortunate beaver to be instantly replacedwhich was no sooner done than he fined the poor culprit for appearing covered in his presence!- William Penn now insisted upon knowing what law he was accused of having broken, to which simple question the Recorder was reduced to answer, "that he was an impertinent fellow, and that many had studied thirty or forty years to understand the law, which he was for having expounded in a moment!" The learned controversialist however was not to be silenced so easily; he quoted Lord Coke and Magna Charta on his antagonist in a moment; and chastised his insolence by one of the best and most characteristic repartees that we recollect ever to have met with. "I tell you to be silent," cried the Recorder, in a great passion; "if we should suffer you to ask questions till to-morrow morning, you will be never the wiser!""That," replied the Quaker, with his immovable tranquillity, "that is, according as the answers are." - "Take him away, take him away?" exclaimed the Mayor and the Rocorder in a breath "turn him into the Bale Dock;" and into the Bale Dock, a filthy and pestilent dungeon in the neighbourhood, he was accordingly turned-discoursing calmly all the way on Magna Charter and the rights of Englishmen; -while the courtly Recorder delivered a very animated charge to the Jury, in the absence of the prisoner. The Jury, however, after a short consultation, brought in a verdict, finding him merely "guilty of speaking in Grace-Church Street." For this cautious and most correct deliverance, they were loaded with reproaches by the Court, and sent out to amend their verdict,but in half an hour they returned with the same ingenious finding, written out at large, and subscribed with all their names. The Court now became more furious than ever, and shut them up without meat, drink, or fire, till next morning; when they twice over came back with the same verdict;-upon which they were reviled, and threatened so outrageously by the Recorder, that William Penn protest ed against this plain intimidation of the persons, to whose free suffrages the law had entrusted his cause. The answer of the Recorder was, "Stop his mouth, jailor-bring fetters and stake him to the ground." William Penn replied with the temper of a Quaker, and the spirit of a martyr, "Do your pleasure-I matter not your fetters!" And the Recorder took occasion to observe, "that, till now, he had never understood the policy of the Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among them. But now he saw that it would never be well with us, till we had something like the Spanish Inquisition in England!" After this sage remark, the Jury were again sent back, and kept other twenty-four hours, without food or refreshment. On the third day, the natural and glorious effect of this brutality on the spirits of Englishmen was at length produced. Instead of the special and unmeaning form of their first verdict, they now, all in one voice, declared the prisoner NOT GUILTY. The Recorder again broke out into abuse and menace; and, after "praying God to keep his life out of such hands," proceeded, we really do not see on what pretext, to fine every man of them in forty marks, and to order them to prison till payment. William Penn then demanded his liberty; but was ordered into custody till he paid the fine imposed on him for wearing his hat; and was forthwith dragged away to his old lodging in the Bale Dock, while in the very act of quoting the twenty-ninth chapter the Great Charter, "Nullus liber homo," &c. As he positively refused to acknowledge the legality of this infliction by paying the fine, he might have lain long enough in this dungeon; but his father, who was now reconciled to him, sent the money privately; and he was at last set at liberty. a year, the The spirit, however, which had dictated these proceedings was not likely to cease from troubling; and, within less than poor Quaker was again brought before the Magistrate on an accusation of illegal preaching; and was again about to be dismissed for want of evidence, when the worthy Justice ingeniously bethought himself of tendering to the prisoner the oath of allegiance, which, as well as every other oath, he well knew that his principles would oblige him to refuse. Instead of the oath, W. Penn, accordingly offered to give his reasons for not swearing; but the Magistrate refused to hear him: and an altercation ensued, in the course of which the Justice having insinuated, that, in spite of his sanctified exterior, the young preacher was as bad as other folks in his practice, the Quaker forgot, for one moment, the systematic meekness and composure of his sect, and burst out into this triumphant appeal "I make this bold challenge to all men, women, and children upon earth, justly to accuse me with having seen me drunk, heard me swear, utter a curse, or speak one obscene word, much less that I ever made it my practice. I speak this to God's giory, who has ever preserved me from the power of these pollutions, and who from a child begot an hatred in me towards them. Thy words shall be thy burthen, and I trample thy slander as dirt under my feet!"-pp. 99, 100. in Newgate; where he amused himself, as usual, by writing and publishing four pamphlets in support of his opinions. It is by no means our intention, however, to digest a chronicle either of his persecutions or his publications. In the earlier part of his career, he seems to have been in prison every six months; and, for a very considerable period of it, certainly favoured the world with at least six new pamphlets every year. In all these, as well as in his public appearances, there is a singular mixture of earnestness and sobriety-a devotedness to the cause in which he was engaged, that is almost sublime; and a temperance and patience towards his opponents, that is truly admirable: while in the whole of his private life, there is redundart testimony, even from the mouths of his enemies, that his conduct was pure and philanthropic in an extraordinary degree, and distinguished at the some time for singular prodence and judgment in all ordinary affairs. His virtues and his sufferings appear at last to have overcome his father's objections to his peculiar tenets, and a thorough and cordial reconciliation took place previous to their final separation. On his death-bed, indeed, the admiral is said to have approved warmly of every part of his son's conduct; and to have predicted, that "if he and his friends kept to their plain way of preaching and of living. they would speedily make an end of the priests, to the end of the world." By his father's death he succeeded to a handsome es tate, then yielding upwards of 1500l. a year; but made no change either in his professions or way of life. He was at the press and in Newgate, after this event, exactly ctly as before: and defied and reviled the luxury of the age, just as vehemently, when he was in a condition to partake of it, as in the days of his poverty. Within a short time after his succession, he made a pilgrimage to Holland and Germany in company with George Fox; where it is said that they converted many of all ranks, including young ladies of quality and old professors of divinity. They were ill used, however, by a surly Graf or two, whe sent them out of their dominions under a corporal's guard; an attention which they repaid, by long letters of expostulation and advice, which the worthy Grafs were probably neither very able nor very willing to read. In the midst of these labours and trials, he found time to marry a lady of great beauty and accomplishments; and settled himself ir a comfortable and orderly house in the coun try-but, at the same time, remitted nothing of his zeal and activity in support of the canse in which he had embarked. When the penal statutes against Popish recusants were about to be passed, in 1678, by the tenor of which certain grievous punishments were inflicted upon all who did not frequent the established church, or purge themselves upon oath, from Popery, William Penn was allowed to be heare The greater part of the audience confirmed before a Committee of the House of Commons, this statement; and the judicial calumniator in support of the Quakers' application for had nothing for it, but to sentence this unrea- some exemption from the unintended severity conable Puritan to six months' imprisonment of dicts; and what has been preserved |