The Grey Brethren, and Other Fragments in Prose and Verse — Edition Insights

face; and in that position she had done wonderful drawings of the High Priest, the Ark of the Covenant, and other Levitical figures. She had a cageful of tame canary-birds which answered to their names and fed from her plate at meal-times. Of these I remember only Roger, a gorgeous fellow with a beautiful voice and strong will of his own, who would occasionally defy his mistress from the secure fastness of a high picture-frame, but always surrendered at last, and came to listen to his lecture with drooping wings.

A city of Peace, this little house, for the same severely-gentle decorum reigned in the kitchen as elsewhere: and now, where is such a haunt to be found?

In the earlier part of this century the Friends bore a most important witness. They were a standing rebuke to rough manners, rude speech, and to the too often mere outward show of religion. No one could fail to be impressed by the atmosphere of peace suggested by their bearing and presence; and the gentle, sheltered, contemplative lives lived by most of them undoubtedly made them unusually responsive to spiritual influence. Now, the young birds have left the parent nest and the sober plumage and soft speech; they are as other men; and in a few short years the word Quaker will sound as strange in our ears as the older appellation Shaker does now.

This year I read for the first time the Journal of George Fox. It is hard to link the rude, turbulent son of Amos with the denizens in my city of Peace; but he had his work to do and did it, letting breezy truths into the stuffy ‘steeple-houses’ of the ‘lumps of clay.’

“Come out from among them and be ye separate; touch not the accursed thing!” he thundered; and out they came, obedient to his stentorian mandate; but alack, how many treasures in earthen vessels did they overlook in their terror of the curse! The good people made such haste to flee the city, that they imagined themselves as having already, in the spirit, reached the land that is very far off; and so they cast from them the outward and visible signs which are vehicles, in this material world, of inward graces. Measureless are the uncovenanted blessings of God; and to these the Friends have ever borne a witness of power; but now the Calvinist intruder no longer divides the sheep from the goats in our churches; now the doctrine of universal brotherhood and the respect due to all men are taught much more effectively than when George Fox refused to doff his hat to the Justice; the quaint old speech has lost its significance, the dress would imply all the vainglory that the wearer desires to avoid; the young Quakers of this generation are no longer ‘disciplined’ in matters of the common social life; yet still they remain separate.

We of the outward and visible covenant need them, with their inherited mysticism, ordered contemplation, and spiritual vision; we need them for ourselves. The mother they have left yearns for them, and with all her faults—faults the greater for their absence—and with the blinded eyes of their recognition, she is their mother still. “_What advantage then hath the Jew_?” asked St Paul, and answered in the same breath—“_Much every way_, _chiefly because that unto them were committed the oracles of God_.” What advantage then has the Churchman? is the oft repeated question today; and the answer is still the answer of St Paul.

The Incarnation is the sum of all the Sacraments, the crown of the material revelation of God to man, the greatest of outward and visible signs, “_that which we have heard_, _which we have seen with our eyes_, _which we have looked upon and our hands have handled of the word of life_.” A strange beginning truly, to usher in a purely spiritual dispensation; but beautifully fulfilled in the taking up of the earthly into the heavenly—Bread and Wine, the natural fruits of the earth, sanctified by man’s toil, a sufficiency for his needs; and instinct with Divine life through the operation of the Holy Ghost.

“_In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread_.”

“_Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood ye have no life in you_.”

“_And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations_.”

From Genesis to the Revelation of the Divine reaches the rainbow of the Sacramental system—outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace:—

The sacrament of purging, purifying labour, to balance and control the knowledge of good and evil:—