their slaves kindly, and as soon as possible to give them their liberty. Clarkson, in his " Portraiture of Quakerism," says, that probably this was the first public denunciation of this infamous traffic. This is not correct, as his own history of its abolition sufficiently shows. Fox's honour is this; that he not only declared against it on the first possible opportunity, but organized a religious body on such principles that it must necessarily take up the cause of Negro freedom systematically. And this was the case. The Friends in America were the first to liberate their slaves, and advocate their freedom generally, especially those pure and tender-hearted men, John Woolman and Anthony Benezet ; and in England the Friends were the first to form an association for this object-an association which became the nucleus of that which finally achieved this magnificent object. From first to last the Friends were uniform and strenuous in their exertions to abolish slavery:—would to Heaven they had borne some of their other main doctrines as boldly into the public presence! What similar triumphs might we not have witnessed! Fox and his noble band of disciples were as actively hostile to the slavery of religion, under the name of Establishments. They cried aloud in streets and market-places against it; they denounced it from the press and the prison; they called the people to the enjoyment of a free gospel ; and thousands answered their call,-ay, even priests, decending from pulpits dishonoured by a state dictation. And have their decendants abandoned their principle? No! but they have slept over its exercise. They have been content to be distrained upon for tithes and poor's-rates, to the annual amount of about L.14,000,-and to be silent: to put these robberies in a book, and shut the book up in a closet. What a blaze of Christian zeal would they have kindled against a State Religion had they, like the first brave Friends, made the nation ring from side to side with the iniquity of the principle of these exactions. But that time has passed by; and now that the nation itself is awake to the enormity, they still stand fearful and inoperative. They persuade themselves it is right, it is religious, it is savouring of the meekness of Christ, to avoid all vehemence of zeal, everything that looks political. In this they may possess the private piety of their ancestors, but they possess not their public spirit, they were quite another sort of men. In this we behold the prevalence of the latter habits of the Society over its original principle and power. Here they may continue to hold the splendid doctrine of Fox and Penn: but they hold it in nullity and barrenness. They have a testimony on the subject of forced payments for religion: but their forerunners had the testimony glorious in its indignant grandeur. The testimony of Fox on this subject was like the Law of Moses, received on Mount Sinai, amid its thunders and its lightnings,-theirs is like the same Law laid in the latter ages of Judea, in the dusty and untrodden silence of the Sanctuary. In this respect they certainly come far short, yet there | is a faint evidence that the principle still lives, in the petitions against tithes from the last two yearly meetings. May it yet kindle into its ancient glow ! The same cause has made them stand aloof from all political activity :—as if religion were a thing to be thought of and dreamed of merely; to be shut up in your own heart, your own house, or, at most, to regulate your own conduct between man and man in ordinary affairs,—not to extend to those great human movements in the mass, on which the happiness of the mass depends. They have interpreted the command to be subject to the powers that be, in too abject a spirit; as if the indignant enunciation of Whether it is right we shall hearken unto God rather than you, judge ye!" is not as good gospel, clearly setting the bound to political submissiveness; and as if it were possible" to do to others as we would be done by," if we use not all legitimate means to rescue our fellows from the immoderate pressure of unholy governments, which entail all miseries upon nations, by quenching nobility of sentiment, and darkening all intellects with crime. Obedience to good government is a shining virtue: but zealous endeavours to amend a bad one is not the less so. On this head there is room to return to that popular spirit of the first Friends which led them to address Kings and Parliaments in the highest style of remon strance. Their doctrine respecting oaths is one which they have held with commendable firmness against the whole Christian world. The world is now prepared to admit the justice of their views. It is seen that oaths do not bind the unprincipled, and the just do not need them,-they are, therefore, at best, a needless taking of God's name in vain. Now, therefore, is the time for Friends to emulate the conduct of their fathers, by making their views on this head more known, and showing that oaths, useless in themselves, are a palpable violation of the command of Christ. If being at ease in their possessions has tended to dim their views of duty, or enfeeble their practice in these particulars, on the other hand they have carried to the highest point of scrupulosity their maintenance of what they call "their outward testimonies," that is, their peculiar mode of speech, behaviour, and apparel. man. Their use of peculiar names for the days and months proceeds from a laudable desire carried to excess,‚—a desire to keep clear of names once belonging to idolatry,-into which there is now little danger of falling. Their rejection of fulsome titles, as his Grace, his Excellency, his Honour, must have the approbation of every honest Their adoption of Thou to a single person, You only to more than one, was at the time, for a reason given, noble and most admirable; but now, that the cause is removed, is a violation of modern grammar, without an adequate use,—and having an air of awkward formality rather than of reason. Their dress may be plain, but cannot be said to be comely, or even commodious, In most of these particulars they have therefore, simply and rationally on the principle of plainness, but clinging anxiously, and perhaps proudly, to a traditionary form, stands an object of the most ludicrous inconsistency. In everything beside he has followed the spirit and improvement of the times. His house is built, his furniture is made, his carpets are woven, his carriage is constructed, his very horse-harness cut, according to the increased lights, facilities, and extended means of progressive society. His bed is heaped with the softest materials, his table clung to the form rather than the principle, which is the gospel one of plainness and simplicity-an excellent principle, that may be carried into the fullest practice without a dogged adhesion to a peculiar fashion; and with a rational conformity to the genius of the national costume. The first Friends made no change in their dress, if we except Fox's suit of leather, which no one imitates.* William Penn was dressed as became a gentleman of the time. Christ knows nothing of the fashions of Oliver Cromwell's day they form no part of His religion-spread with the various luxuries which the fullwhich is not a religion of caps and coats of a certain cut, but of high and ennobling sentiments, and of the practice of everything which tends to bind man to man, and prepare the heart for Heaven. An orthodox Quaker, dressing not, We are tempted to give a singular enough pendant to Mr. Howitt's picture of the Founder of his enlightened and beneficent sect; less, however, as a corroboration of the truth of his resemblance, than from its original and unique style of execution. It is taken from a series of papers which, strange to tell, appeared lately in Fraser's Magazine. We say, strange to tell, as, with the deepest Reverence, they combine the most decided elementary Radicalism; while profound and subtle philosophical speculations mingle, grotesquely enough, with the thousand wild and playful extravagances, the quips and cranks of a quaint and wanton humour, very unlike, however, to the somewhat Hibernian wit of our sprightly and reckless contemporary. This series of papers is entitled Sartor Resartus, and is, we believe, written by Mr. Carlyle. -E. T. M. "Perhaps the most remarkable incident in modern history," says Teufelsdröckh," is not the Diet of Worms, still less the battle of Austerlitz, Waterloo, Peterloo, or any other battle; but an incident passed carelessly over by most historians, and treated with some degree of ridicule by others—namely, George Fox's making to himself a suit of leather. This man, the first of the Quakers, and by trade a shoemaker, was one of those to whom, under ruder or purer form, the divine idea of the universe is pleased to manifest itself; and, across all the hulls of ignorance and earthly degradation, shine through, in unspeakable awfulness, unspeakable beauty, on their souls; who therefore are rightly accounted prophets, God-possessed; or even gods, as in some periods it has chanced. Sitting in his stall,-working on tanned hides, amid pineers, paste-horns, rosin, swine-bristles, and a nameless flood of rubbish, this youth had nevertheless a living spirit belonging to him; also an antique Inspired Volume, through which, as through a window, it could look upwards and discern its celestial home. The task of a daily pair of shoes, coupled with even some prospect of victuals, and an honourable Mastership in Cordwainery, and perhaps the post of Third borough in his Hundred, as the crown of long, faithful sewing, was nowise satisfaction enough to such a mind; but ever amid the boring and hammering, came tones from that far country, came splendours and terrors; for this poor cordwainer, as we said, was a man; and the temple of immensity, wherein as man he had been sent to minister, was full of holy mystery to him. "The clergy of the neighbourhood, the ordained watchers and interpreters of that same holy mystery, listened with unaffected tedium to his consultations, and advised him, as the solution of such doubts, to drink beer, and dance with the girls.' Blind leaders of the blind! For what end were their tithes levied and eaten; for what were their shovel hats scooped out, and their surplices and cassock-aprons girt on; and such a church-repairing, and chaffering, and organing, and other racketing, held Over that spot of God's earth,-if man were but a patent digester, and the belly with its adjuncts the grand reality? Fox turned from them, with tears and a sacred scorn, back to his leather-parings and his bible. Moun grown spirit of art and science has taught our manufacturers, or the mighty winds of a boundless commerce have wafted from every region. The very fabric which he wears, and the hat which shades his brow, combine in them a huntains of encumbrance, higher than Ætna, had been heaped over that spirit: but it was a spirit, and would not lie buried there. Through long days and nights of silent agony, it struggled and wrestled, with a man's force, to be free: how its prison-mountains heaved and swayed tumultuously, as the giant spirit shook them to this hand and that, and emerged into the light of Heaven! That Leicester shoe-shop, had men known it, was a holier place than any Vatican or Loretto-shrine. So bandaged, and hampered, and hemmed in,' groaned he, 'with thousand requisitions, obligations, straps, tatters, and tagrags, I can neither see nor move: not my own am I, but the world's; and time flies fast, and Heaven is high, and Hell is deep Man! bethink thee, if thou hast power of thought! Why not; what binds me here! Want! want!-Ha, of what? Will all the shoe-wages under the moon ferry me across into that far land of light? Only meditation can, and devout prayer to God. I will to the woods; the hollow of a tree will lodge me, wild berries feed me; and for clothes, cannot I stitch myself one perennial suit of leather!' "Historical oil-painting," continues Teufelsdröckh, "is one of the arts I never practised; therefore, shall I not decide whether this subject were easy of execution on the canvass. Yet often has it seemed to me as if such first outflashing of man's freewill, to lighten more and more into day, the chaotic night that threatened to engulf him in its hindrances and its horrors, were properly the only grandeur there is in history. Let some living Angelo or Rosa, with seeing eye and understanding heart, picture George Fox on that morning when he spreads out his cutting-board for the last time, and cuts cow-hides by unwonted patterns, and stitches them together into one continuous all-including case, the farewell service of his awl! Stitch away, thou noble Fox! every prick of that little instrument is pricking into the heart of slavery, and world-worship, and the Mammon-god. Thy elbows jerk as in strong swimmer-strokes, and every stroke is bearing thee across the prison-ditch, within which vanity holds her workhouse and rag-fair, into lands of true liberty. Were the work done, there is in broad Europe one free man, and thou art he! "Thus from the lowest depth there is a path to the loftiest height; and for the poor also a gospel has been published. Surely, if, as D'Alembert asserts, my illustrious namesake, Diogenes, was the greatest man of antiquity, only that he wanted decency, then, by stronger reason, is George Fox the greatest of the moderns, and greater than Diogenes himself; for he too stands on the adamantine basis of his manhood, casting aside all props and shoars; yet not, in half-savage pride, undervaluing the earth; valuing it rather as a place to yield him warmth and food, he looks Heaven-ward from his earth, and dwells in an element of mercy and worship, with a still strength, such as the Cynic's tub did nowise witness. Great, truly, was that tub; a temple from which man's dignity and divinity was scornfully preached abroad; but greater is the leather hull, for the same sermon was preached there, and not in scorn but in love." dred improvements made since the days of Penn and Barclay, yet in the form alone he clings to the fashion of a far ruder age, and with it to inconvenience and deformity. He says he will not flatter the pride of the creature by ostentatious raiment ;-he is right: but he should not disfigure that which God has created beautiful. The human figure, in its grace and dignity, is the perfection of the mechanism of the Divine Creator; and what God has taken so much pains to adorn, it becomes us not to deface. Friends think that there is safety to their youth in this barbarous raiment. It is a mark, they say, upon them, by which the world knows them, and by which they feel themselves observed as if clothes were not things that could be taken off. A Highlander asked an English traveller what was the use of the lock on his portmanteau; and being told it was to prevent its being robbed, he drew his dirk, and, laughing, cut the portmanteau open. Outward marks are no safeguards; the only real safeguards are sound moral principles within. But if this shibboleth of language,and this barbarism of dress, do no good, they certainly do much evil. They have affected us as the long raiment and the broad phylacteries did the Pharasees of old-they have induced much spiritual pride. It was easier to attribute undue importance to these, than to come up to the high standard of the living zeal of the ancient Friends. "The outward testimonies" have therefore become almost everything-the very ark and palladium of the Society-the mark and measure of its orthodoxy. They have cast into the shade its really great principles. For these reasons I have no testimony to these Cromwellian fashions, but a decided testimony against them, as having done immeasurable injury to our cause. It is now high time that we become known by nobler tokens. It is time that, still despising all temporary and outré fashions, we conform to the general character of our national costume; that, loathing all fulsome flatteries, we speak the established English of the age; and, instead of being ambitious of being known by our singularity of dress or speech, we seek to avail ourselves of the great heritage of noble sentiments and principles bequeathed to us by George Fox. There is higher work for us to do than dressing or speaking oddly:-to assist our fellow-citizens to cast down the established enormity of priestcraft. Our ancestors set a brilliant example to their own times, and left a mighty lesson to this. They claimed for themselves a complete freedom from the national church; a freedom to marry and bury as they pleased; a freedom even from oaths; a freedom from those very things that the other Dissenters are at this late period seeking; and they obtained it,—shewing that subjects have only to determine on the attainment of their rights, and they cannot long be resisted. It becomes our bounden duty, being come of such a stock, to rouse our fellow-countrymen to this assertion of their due. To spread abroad better views of war and oaths; to inspire more elevated and just views of the character, offices, and duties of women, the mothers and teachers of our children-the companions and friends of men; to awaken as many as we can to more spiritual conceptions of Christianity-of its freedom, its sufficiency, its beauty and beneficence :—these are our legitimate duties, and to these let us betake ourselves. For my part, born and educated in this Society, I have seen enough to induce me to confess, that for its peculiarities have little respect; for its great leading principles, the highest veneration. Amongst all the various society I have mingled in, I have nowhere seen a greater purity of life and sentiment; a more enviable preservation of a youth-like tenderness of conscience; a deeper sense of the obligations of justice; of the beauty of punctuality; or so sweet a maintenance of the domesticities of life. A thousand memories of youth, and youthful actions now past a thousand happy and tender associationsbind me in affection to it. I look with a grateful complacency on the luminous views of truth which George Fox drew from the great archives of Christianity, as a glorious legacy to the world; which has already received mighty benefits therefrom, and is now prepared to reap still greater. A day is certainly coming upon us when many old prejudices shall be thrown down; when we shall work with purer hands and simpler views; when we shall feel it necessary to regard all men as brothers, really made of one flesh, and ordained to one salvation,—not as mere machines for us to grow rich upon; when we shall look on the poorest of them, not as creatures living here only, but to live on through thousands of ages, and therefore demanding from us a higher estimate, a better tuition, a more human fellowship; and, if this be so, it will be an everlasting reproach to that community which has called itself a Society of Friends, if it be not found amongst the foremost of those who are labouring, and will labour, to lay the foundation of an illimitable Christian Friendship, in the mighty and pregnant principles of Knowledge, Virtue, and Love. PANURGE IN ENGLAND. CHAP. I.-HOW PANURGE IS PUZZLED. AND Panurge sat down for a while to consider:—first, he sat down on an exceeding large and cold stone, which had been dug out of a quarry of hard rock, and kept ever after in a dark chamber, to which no light could penetrate, and had been chiselled by very unskilful hands into a chair for a learned Professor of Political Economy; but whether that the frigi dity of the stone ascended through his body, and settled at last upon the brain, or that the pre vious uses to which it had been applied, had the flagon gave Panurge no light on the subfilled it with hebetative, and instupifying quali-ject; but he was so persevering in his inquiries, ties, he found that his thoughts could come to no lest perchance any wise saw should be written final issue, and his ratiocinations all determined on the bottom of the pitcher, (as the heathen in a fog. "Curse the stone, oh, all ye deities Mahomedans imprint lessons from the Alcoran of lime and mortar, of whin, quartz, and schis- on the blades of their simitars,) that all that tus!” said Panurge ; "for it has in no wise be- he acquired by his search after knowledge was nefited my contemplations, but rather, as I fear a headache the next morning, and a feeling as me, has afflicted me with an affection of rheu- if the whole Arabian desert had emptied its matic pains in the nethermost extremity." Then sands into his throat. "God's blessing," quoth he sat him down in a soft, velvet cushion, which Panurge, "rest on the pitcher, stoop, bottle, had served for many years as the pulpit-cushion bladder, vial, or whatever containeth the divine of a venerable Dean; but whether by some in- ichor of the grape! If I had known my throat herent virtue of the cushion itself, or by means would have been so parched this morning, I of the narcotic effluvia of the good man's elo- would have swilled four hundred times the quanquence, who had slumbered over it for a long tity last night. But blessed be our lady of the succession of Sundays, Panurge could in no ways glasses! there is more wine in the cellar-so keep his eyes open, though he bit his lips, pinched drink, my boys! drink! as if your throats were his fingers, tried to think of his sweetheart, took paved with salt!" snuff, and heartily cursed his enemies. In spite of all these expedients, besides pulling his nose, shifting his legs one over the other, drumming with his feet, counting his money, and setting his periwig in fifty different fashions, he found nature too strong for him, and his head nid-nodding on his breast, before he had time to turn the subject of his meditations into a syllogism. " Infernal devils, Morpheus, Somnus, and all the leaden-eyed crew of dull-brained demons, seize on the cushion!" quoth Panurge; " for confound me if it is not by fifty degrees worse than the stone. But wise men always yield to the fortune they cannot resist :-So, Ho! page-bring me in two hundred and fifty gallons of the wine of Bourdeaux, and the devil take me if I think any more of the matter." Now, the matter which troubled Panurge so much, was a question propounded unto him by by the sage Pantagruel, namely, how it came to pass, in the great and mighty kingdom of the Angles, that a certain class of the inhabitants, young or old, dark or fair, tall or short, yea, even from the hour of their birth, were filled with a certain divine wisdom, which made all other learning or study useless and unnecessary, but were endowed with a surpassing knowledge of laws and sciences, and even mechanical arts. Nay, more, that there was in that island a certain House, into which, whoever was admitted, was instantaneously blessed with the possession of the same infallible perfection; and, strangest of all, how it happened that the persons who ordinarily sat in that house, heard speeches that were spoken, and formed judgments on matters debated in it, though many hundred miles away from it themselves. Poor Panurge was miserably puzzled ; but in this agony, and, as it were, inquisitorial torture of his wits, he resolved,-firstly, to have recourse to the flagon, which, in many cases, is the best chamber-counsel a man can resort to; secondly, to the wise books, notes, lectures, theories, and annotations of the political econo Now, it occurred to Panurge, since his researches under the cork had been so unsuccessful, that he would apply for a solution of the mystery to the inhabitants of the many-angled island themselves: so taking a dutiful leave of Pantagruel, and also of his father, the redoubtable Gargantua of Epistemon, Triboulet, and all his friends, he conveyed himself into the happy island of the Angles; and took up his abode, the first night of his landing, in the great town of D'Ouvres. Saith Panurge to mine host," Blessings on thy red and jocund proboscis! it beareth good testimonials of thy cellar ;-pray oblige a stranger with a little of thy delectable company." "I will," saith mine host," John bring up the half dozen hamper of the vintage of the year of the Comet ; for this gentleman seems as thirsty a companion as the blessed Abbot of the Gules, who is now drinking in Heaven!" have not we Hobby Copus? Answer me that, sir!" mists; and, thirdly, to the expounders of Holy-haven't we Mungo Carter,—and, above all, Writ, to ascertain if any miracle of the sort might be expected in these latter days, when we are told the age of miracles has ceased. Alas! May the devil fetch me if I answer thee at excellent judges! and happy, thrice happy, country, where the party who gains a suit is ruined by the expenses!" "Ay! sir," said mine host; but consider the satisfaction of having the cause decided in your favour." "I do consider it," quoth Panurge. " But, in the meantime, let us have in some more wine; for truly the very mention of the Law Courts maketh one immoderately thirsty." While mine host was absent in procuring a replenishment of the half-dozen hamper, two strangers came into the room, and were courteously welcomed by Panurge. "Rest ye mer rily, gentlemen," quoth Panurge. "I crave your company for a short space. The landlord is this "Yea; and, touching our laws, was there not, no longer agone than last Candlemas sixteen years, a suit entered into between me and the richest man in our parish, one Master Cræso, a goldsmith, of and concerning four perches and a quarter of an ell of the barren part of my pad-moment gone in search of some heavenly nectar, dock? I'll show thee a cart load of our law proceedings, an' thou wilt." "May Rhadamanthus, the Cretan judge, stap my vitals, and transform a Fury, nay Tisiphone herself, into a Ganymede, to fill my bowl with brimstone, if I look for an instant on a single barrowful of such dusty parchment!" quoth Panurge. and will be here immediately with a supply." The strangers upon this returned him great thanks for his civility, and drew in their chairs to the table. "I guess," continued Panurge, "from your dresses, that you are a priest and a lawyer; but you will pardon me, being a stranger, if I do not know your rank,-whether you, reverend sir be curate, monk, or abbot; or you, learned sir, be a counsellor of ten years' standing, or a ser "We excuse your ignorance of us on the plea you mention," replied the lawyer ; "My friend here is the pious, learned, estimable, and consistent Lord Bishop Lovejugs; and I myself am Sergeant Neddybug, of whom doubtless you have heard amongst the jurisconsults of foreign climes." "That is as thou shalt please," said mine host; "but this rich curmudgeon, this Master Cræso, when he had sold unto me, for a speci-geant, or a judge." fied sum, all the land, grass, soil, subsoil, trees, woods, houses, rivers, ditches, drains, and other properties contained in my said paddock, did thereafter make a demand of fourteen shillings and eightpence farthing, for the aforesaid four perches and a quarter of an ell, maintaining that they were not included in the bargain, as, some twenty years before that, they had been divaricated and subdivided from the aforesaid paddock by a quickset hedge. But the law-thanks to St. Thomas of Canterbury and other saints!-is open unto all; and I hied me to Counsellor Crimson, and engaged him to conduct the case. Then were there replies and counter-replies, measurements, statements, arguments, and quotations; but at last, when it had occupied the attention of the deepest sages of the law for a matter of sixteen years, lo! you know, it was decided in my favour, though such a poor man, and against Master Cræso, though he is the richest goldsmith in the great city of Lunders." "I wish thee joy of thy victory, my friend. I drink success to the law, which is almost as speedy as it is just. Did Counsellor Crimson take in his bill of charges to Master Cræso?" "No, by my certes," quoth mine host; " for the case was not certificated with costs." And it cost thee," quoth Panurge," almost the value of the disputed ground?" "Almost the value! Nay, by St. Cleptes, the patron of innkeepers, it cost me more than the value of the soil if it had been all good wheatgrowing land down to the antipodes." "And didst thou pay all this to retain possession of what thou mightest have purchased for fourteen shillings and eightpence farthing! Oh, brave law!" continued Panurge in an ecstacy; "Glorious Counsellor Crimson! wise litigants! "A couple of jolly fellows," quoth Panurge; your names please me well. How say you, my Lord Lovejugs,-shall we order in an extra hamper? How say you, Sergeant Neddybug,shall we shew ourselves true Pantagruelians?" It was agreed, nemine contradicente; and, after a fervent benediction from him of the mitre, they set soberly in for a night of hard drinking. "Gentlemen," said Panurge, "perhaps, being so learned in law and in divinity, you will be able to resolve unto me the marvellous difficulty which I came over hither, from my good master, Pantagruel, to explore. There is, as I understand, in your kingdom a certain class or body who are wise in the law and the gospel without any study whatsoever. May the gods make them happy! for the only drawback to the pleasure of learning is the whacks on the bottom it costs one in his youth. Are there such happy mortals in this land of yours? And if so, resolve unto me, I pray you, what can be the reason of so unheard of an occurrence." "The reason is very plain," answered Neddybug, without hesitation," it results from the wisdom of our ancestors." "Ay, beyond all doubt," added Lord Lovejugs, "it results from the wisdom of our ancestors." "Then, gentlemen, Here's to the health and happiness of our ancestors; for curse me with the curse of a barrel of Burgundy with neither spigot |