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. Quakerism in its origin was a bold and successful struggle to do this. The glory of early Quakerism was in its integrity, in its uncompromising, unflinching requirement that the life should bear witness to the truth, and its resolute stand against any other requirement. The “inner light” was not only a word of the deepest poetical and mystical significance; it was a doctrine of sternest righteousness, and at the same time an assertion of resolute independence. Those who were conscious of the shining of Divine light into their own hearts needed no priestly absolution or interposition. They were willing to stand or fall by their innocence in the sight of all men. Their very gaolers often trusted them to convey themselves to their distant prisons if they had but promised. It was well known in those early days that a Friend’s word was as good as his bond; and to this very day a reputation for special truthfulness and sobriety clings to them, and not, I believe, without reason. I am anxious to insist upon the resolution to maintain a high moral standard amongst us, not only because of the supreme intrinsic importance of righteousness; not only because I believe that as religion is cleared of outward and ceremonial and perishable elements this indestructible growth of holiness has more room to expand; but also because it cannot be denied, and should, indeed, never be forgotten, that there is a very real ground for the suspicion, or, at any rate, the jealous scrutiny, with which any peculiarly exalted spiritual aspirations are apt to be regarded. There is a well-known and very awful connection between religious emotion and emotions arising from sources less pure. There is an ever-present danger lest in any endeavour to stimulate the one we should rouse the other, and a still worse danger lest the lower should assume the garb and appearance of the higher. The history of religious revivals affords abundant warning of the dangers inseparable from all sudden outbursts of feeling, even where much of it is deep and true and lasting.