class, he is among the first of the second class of men who apply their powers to practical purposes, — and that is saying much.’
‘I went to hear Joseph John Gurney, one of the most
distinguished and influential, it is said, of the English
Quakers. He is a thick-set, beetle-browed man, with a
well-to-do-in-the-world air of pious stolidity. I was
grievously disappointed; for Quakerism has at times
looked lovely to me, and I had expected at least a
spiritual exposition of its doctrines from the brother of Mrs.
Fry. But his manner was as wooden as his matter,
and had no merit but that of distinct elocution. His
sermon was a tissue of texts, illy selected, and worse
patched together, in proof of the assertion that a belief
in the Trinity is the one thing needful, and that reason,
unless manacled by a creed, is the one thing dangerous.
His figures were paltry, his thoughts narrowed down,
and his very sincerity made corrupt by spiritual pride.
One could not but pity his notions of the Holy Ghost,
and his bat-like fear of light. His Man-God seemed to
be the keeper of a mad-house, rather than the informing
Spirit of all spirits. After finishing his discourse, Mr.
G. sang a prayer, in a tone of mingled shout and whine,
and then requested his audience to sit a while in devout
meditation. For one, I passed the interval in praying
for him, that the thick film of self-complacency might
be removed from the eyes of his spirit, so that he might
no more degrade religion.’
‘Mr. Hague is of the Baptist persuasion, and is very
popular with his own sect. He is small, and carries
his head erect; he has a high and intellectual, though