nd worshipped publicly on the ruins,
notwithstanding, they knew that they were subject by so doing, to fines,
and scourges, and confinements, and banishment, and that, like many
others of their members who had been persecuted, they might die in
prison.

This courage of the early Quakers has descended as far as circumstances
will allow us to judge, to their posterity, or to those who profess the
same faith. For happily, on account of the superior knowledge which has
been diffused among us since those times, and on account of the progress
of the benign influence of Christianity, both of which may be supposed
to have produced among the members of our legislature a spirit of
liberality in religion, neither the same trials; nor the same number of
them, can be afforded for the courage of the modern Quakers, as were
afforded for that of the Quakers of former days. But as far as there are
trials, the former exhibit courage proportioned to their weight. This
has been already conspicuous in the bearing of their testimony, either
in those cases where they run the hazard of suffering by opposing the
customs of the world, or where, by refusing a compliance with legal
demands which they believe to be antichristian, they actually suffer.
Nor are these sufferings often slight, when we consider that they may be
made, even in these days of toleration, to consist of confinement, as
the law now stands, for years, and it may happen even for life, in
prison.

This trait of courage in life, which has been attached to the character
of the Quakers, is the genuine offspring of the trait of "the bearing of
their testimony." For by their testimony it becomes their religion to
suffer, rather than comply with many of the laws and customs of the
land. But every time they get through their sufferings, if they suffer
conscientiously, they gain a victory, which gives them courage to look
other sufferings in the face, and to bid defiance to other persecutions.

This trait is generated again by all those circumstances which have been
enumerated, as producing the quality of independence of mind, and it is
promoted again by the peculiar customs of the society. For a Quaker is a
singular object among his countrymen. His dress, his language, and his
customs mark him. One person looks at him. Another perhaps derides him.
He must summon resolution, or he cannot stir out of doors and be
comfortable. Resolution, once summoned, begets resolution again, till at