An elderly sister, who sat down by me and began to talk, was named Murphy. The name surprised me much, but it was not the only Irish one here. It is probable that some such persons were taken into Dunker families, when young, to be brought up, and thus had been led to join the society.
Having observed that there was a good deal of labor to be performed here in waiting upon so many people, I asked Mrs. Murphy whether there were women hired. She told me, “There’s a couple of women that’s hired; but the members does a heap, too.”
On another occasion, I made a remark to a friendly sister about the brethren’s waiting upon the table, as they did. She answered that it was according to the Testament to help each other; the women cooked, and the men waited upon the table. She did not seem able to give the text. It may be, “Bear ye one another’s burdens.” I was amused that it should be so kindly applied to the brethren’s helping the sisters.
Before meeting began in the afternoon, a lovely aged brother, with silvery hair and beard, and wearing a woollen coat nearly white, showed me how the seats were made, so that, by turning down the backs of some, tables could be formed for the Love-Feast. He told me that the Dunkers number about one hundred thousand,—that they have increased much in the West, but not in the Eastern States. To which I rejoined, smiling, “You Dutch folks do not like poor land, like much of that at the East.”
“This is not good land,” he said, “we have improved it;” for I had left the rich limestone soil and had come to the gravelly land in the northern part of the county.
When meeting began, as brethren came in, I saw some of these bearded men kissing each other. These holy kisses, as will be seen hereafter, are frequent among the Dunkers, and, as the men shave only the upper lip, it seems strange to us who are unaccustomed to the sight and the sound. The oft-repeated kissing was to me, perhaps, the least agreeable part of the ceremonial.
The afternoon meeting became very crowded, and, as is usual among our “Dutch” people, a number of babies were in attendance. During the sessions their voices sometimes rose high, but the noise did not seem to affect those who were preaching or praying. They felt it perhaps like the wailing and sighing of the wind, which they regard not, and would rather bear the inconvenience of the children than to have the mothers stay away from meeting. This afternoon, during prayer, a little fellow behind me kept saying, “Want to go to pappy;” but if his father was among the brethren, he was on the other side of the house.
My new acquaintance, L., was the only preacher here who spoke in English. All the other exercises, except a little singing, were in German or in our Pennsylvania dialect. This afternoon L. said, among many remarks more sectarian, or less broad, “Faith is swallowed up in sight; hope, in possession; but charity, or love, is eternal. It came from God, for God is love.” The allusion here is to Paul’s celebrated panegyric on charity; but how much more charming it is in the German version, “Faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is love. Love suffereth long and is kind, is not puffed up,” etc.
About the middle of the afternoon I perceived a speaker giving some directions, and I asked the women near me what he had said. One answered and said something about “Wahl halten für prediger,” by which I perceived that the election for a preacher was now to take place. Both brethren and sisters were to vote; not to select from a certain set of candidates, however; but at random, among the congregation,—or family, as it is sometimes called, “for all ye are brethren.”
In the room above-stairs were the bishop or elder and an assistant, to receive the votes. This bishop we might call the father of this family, which has four preachers and as many meeting-houses. The bishop is always that preacher who is oldest in the ministry. Meeting is held by turns in the different houses, occurring only once in six weeks in the large new house which we then occupied. These particulars, which I gathered in conversation, are, I believe, substantially correct.