Quaker Strongholds

by Caroline Emelia Stephen

And here we come upon the fact, not always sufficiently remembered, that the indispensable words “inward” and “outward” need care in the handling. It is of great importance to my whole subject that the different senses in which they may be applied should be kept in mind. I have already[28] pointed out that the mystical meaning of “within” or “inwardness” is not the only one upon which we insist.

This well-known Quaker watchword must always be understood as asserting not only that light is to be found by retiring into the inmost chamber of one’s own heart, but also that it is intrinsic, essential, original; that, coming from within, it must, if real, illuminate the whole being. Righteousness, the fruit and result of obedience to light, is in this sense both inward and outward; it is external, but not extraneous; outward in the sense of being visible, tangible, open to the light of day—a thing which, however it may be defined or accounted for, is universally recognizable, and is acknowledged by all as justifying the teaching which produces it; it is not outward in the sense of coming from without, or of being in any degree arbitrary, or accidental, or dependent upon the judgment of our fellow-creatures; it is a natural, not an artificial, test and result of the inward state. Neither is it outward in the sense of appertaining only to what is visible. It does, indeed, impress its stamp even upon the very frame, and of course it consists largely in a visible and real dominion of the mind over the body; but it is, in its origin and essence, of the spirit, not of the flesh.

It was the constant and vigorous seeking for and application of this test of righteousness which distinguished the early Friends from mere mystics. Those “Friends of the Light” were not content to brood over a light shut in to their own hearts. They let it shine freely before men, boldly proclaiming its universality, and calling all men to walk in it. They stoutly claimed that it was the light of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the very Sun of Righteousness, and that the light, spirit, and grace of Christ in their own hearts was one with the spirit in which the Scriptures were given forth. Above all, they insisted that the light was the Spirit of Truth, and must lead into all truth; not into omniscience or infallibility, but into truth in the inmost parts—truth in word, in thought, and in deed. Thus they recognized the great truth that the light within and the light without are alike aspects of the Eternal Word of God—that Word which, abiding in us, is our Eternal Life.

Light within—not the vision of the mystic alone, but cleanness of heart, uprightness, sincerity, singleness of mind—of this light they affirmed that every living soul had some germ, which, as it was attended to, would lead out of the evil it condemned. And the glory of their teaching was that it summoned each human spirit to work out its own salvation—in fear and in trembling truly, and in the strength of God working with and in it, but without dependence on any human being, or on anything perishable, or disputable, or accidental; to repent, and to bring forth fruits meet for repentance; to walk soberly, as children of the day.

This is what I mean by the pure spirituality of the aim of Friends both as to the inward and the outward. The inner light they desire to walk in is not an intellectual but a purifying light; it consists not in rapture, ecstasy, sensation, but in clear insight into the deepest kind of truth; it leads not to knowledge, but to holiness,—which is, indeed, knowledge of the truth. It shines in quietness; and in order to cherish it we must lay aside our preoccupation with the vivid and clamorous and transitory things that are without, dwelling in stillness upon what is eternal, that all things may be revealed in their true proportions. It courts and acknowledges an outward test; but that test consists in the quality of its own outward results, as commending themselves to every man’s conscience, and reveals itself not in a conformity to other people’s teaching, but in a transforming power. The outward stamp we value is not a stamp or sign applied or administered from without and by material means, but the outward and visible radiance of the flame kindled within. The supremacy of the inner light as recognized by us is the supremacy of the fountain over the stream, and the cleanness and cleansing power of the stream is the proof of the purity of the fountain. It is in fixing attention upon moral and spiritual results, rather than upon precision of doctrine or correctness of ceremonial observance, that Friends have, I believe, hit the right nail on the head. In our own day, as in George Fox’s day, this direct appeal to conscience is surely the one unfailing means by which men and women can be “turned to the light,” brought to recognize Him who is the Light, and taught to find in Him their everlasting rest—the rest which is the beginning of power and of victory.

If we be right in our belief that the salvation of Jesus Christ is a purely spiritual influence, a flame which finds in every human heart some prepared fuel, and which is to be spread from heart to heart as fire is kindled from torch to torch; which is to be maintained not by rites and ceremonies, and “the apostolical succession” of outward ordination, but by that turning from dead works to serve the living God which is in the power of every living soul, and which no one can perform for another;—if this view be true, then Friends have yet a great work to do in promulgating it, and a great responsibility in having received it as an inheritance.

For this is not yet the commonly accepted view. The Christianity which has spread and flourished is still deeply saturated with reliance upon outward rites and outward ordinances, and deeply entangled with rigid formularies. It is largely composed of creeds and doctrines, which, whether theoretically true or false, are yet capable of being held in unrighteousness, and incapable, therefore, of truly redeeming the souls who trust in them.

Most Christians say or assume that these things are vitally helpful to them. I dare not presume to say that they are wrong, though I own that I think the assumption too conventional to be conclusive. But of one thing I am quite sure. There is a great and increasing multitude amongst us who cannot accept outward rites or clerical teaching. We see by the experience of Roman Catholic countries how inevitably the spread of priestly influence amongst devout women is accompanied by the utter alienation of thinking men from religion itself. I fear that a tendency of the same kind is visible in England now. What is the proportion of men to women to be seen in the congregations of London churches? Is it not obvious even to our outward senses that there is something in modern Christianity which the masculine mind rejects? We have, indeed, abundant proof in the literature of our day that this is the case. Are we driven to conclude that it is the essence of the religion of Jesus Christ which is rejected by masculine thought; or does the stumbling-block lie in human additions to the teaching of Christ Himself?

I cannot doubt, and I believe few of the worthiest representatives of masculine thought would deny that His own teaching, as we have it in the Gospels, is eternal truth; as secure against every storm of doubt and revolt as the sun in heaven is secure against the whirlwind. The Christianity of Jesus Christ Himself is the Christianity upon which Friends alone, or almost alone, have boldly taken their stand as all-sufficient. In preaching this essential Christianity we can appeal with boldness to the witness in every human heart; and I venture to say that it is not a religion for women and children only, but one which appeals to and fortifies the best instincts of manly independence.[29]

Let it not be supposed that I attribute the whole of the modern revolt from religion to the engrafting of ecclesiastical “developments” upon the simplicity which is in Christ. I know, of course, that many other forces tend to alienate men (and women too) from God, and that there is much in the progress of scientific discovery which it is difficult to reconcile quickly with even the very essence of religion. It is because the ship of faith is in danger that I long to see it lightened of unnecessary burdens. It is because men are ready enough to cast from them all thought of the things which belong to their peace, and to abandon in despair the hope which alone can purify their lives, that I long to see that hope disentangled from whatever is worn out and cumbersome and unreasonable.