The American colonies seemed to the early leaders of the Quaker movement to offer at once a field for the free development of their faith and a base whence they might spread to the ends of the earth. The possibility of buying land from the Indians was being discussed in the society as early as 1660. But though, it is true, Quaker influence was decisive in establishing religious toleration in America, though the relationship between the native tribes and the colonists was transformed through their substitution of unarmed treaty parties for the existing methods of intimidation and of strictly fair dealing for dishonesty and contract-breaking, though they initiated and took the lion’s share in the abolition of slavery,[17] and established the precedent of a State founded on brotherly love, although they did more than any other group of refugees or body of colonists to settle the foundations of the religious and civil life of the country; yet the texture of the religious life of the American people is to-day largely Puritan Protestantism, and of the Quaker influence in government there remains not a trace. For more than half a century after the savage persecution[18] by the Puritans—reaching its fullest fury in Boston under Governor Endicott—had come to an end, Quakerism was a steadily growing power in America.

The Quakers flourished in Rhode Island, to whom they supplied many Governors, and where at one time they were continually in office; they made fair headway in Connecticut. In Long Island their establishment was finally secured by the advice of the Dutch home Government on the ground of their excellence as citizens. They achieved a foothold in Virginia in face of the indignant persecutions of the Episcopalians. Their history in Maryland is an excellent illustration of the nature of their work on behalf of religious toleration. When, in 1691, an Act was framed to secure the establishment of the Protestant church, the Quakers, who were by this time both numerous and influential in the colony, laboured in opposition to it until they brought the bill to nought. They supported the Catholics in their struggle for emancipation, and were largely instrumental in securing the repeal, in 1695, of the Act against them. They also joined with Rome to prevent the Episcopalian Church from being established by law, but in this they were only partially successful. In the Carolinas they appear to have fared well. For years, though in a minority, they controlled the government. New Jersey was thrown open to them by a large purchase of land. William Penn’s share in this transaction was the beginning of his practical interest in America, finally to express itself in the foundation of the Quaker State of Pennsylvania,[19] which was very largely his own work. His labours as a religious apologist, filling some five volumes, and representing in his graceful, polished style the application to social life of the Puritan morality upon which the Quakers had grafted their beliefs, are secondary to his work in America, for which he gave up all he possessed—influence, the prospect of a brilliant career at home, friends, fortune, and health.

This colony, bought strip by strip in honest treaty with the Indians, developed more quickly than any other. It was a home for refugees of every shade of opinion. Friends at no time formed more than half the population, but their influence was supreme. Two years after the settlement of the State[20] Penn writes that two general assemblies had been held with such concord and despatch that they sat but three weeks, and at least seventy laws were passed without one dissent in any material thing.

For thirty years there was peace, liberty, and refuge for all, and an unrivalled prosperity. We may picture Penn, in the days of witch crazes, holding his one trial of a witch, and establishing the precedent of finding the woman guilty of the common fame of being a witch, but not guilty as indicted; and in another characteristically Friendly moment refusing, when greatly in need of funds, six thousand pounds for a trade monopoly which would have violated his principle of fairness to the Indians. Free thought was encouraged, and a little group of distinguished men appeared in Philadelphia. The final downfall of Friendly administration in Pennsylvania was the result of the refusal on the part of the majority of the Quakers to adjust their principles to the demand sent to the Quaker legislature for means to proceed against the French and the Indians.

Up to the time of this occurrence it had seemed as if America were on the way to becoming an autonomous province of the British Empire, steered by Quaker principles. Privilege after privilege had been quietly secured by Penn from the home government, and it is not difficult to believe that if on the eve of the Revolution negotiations had been left in Friendly hands, the war of separation need not have taken place. When it broke out, the Quakers retired decisively from legislative and municipal positions. A Quakerized liberty party carried on the traditions of civil liberty up to the last moment. The Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, who despised the Quakers, and treated the Indians as heathen to be exterminated, formed the main body of the Pennsylvanian revolutionary party.

Friends suffered under English taxation, and their principles prevented them from smuggling, yet they opposed not merely warfare, but revolution, disowning those who supported it, and reiterated their loyalty to England. They were arrested and imprisoned as friends of the British, their goodly farms and their meeting-houses were placed at the mercy of troopers and foragers, whose pay they would not accept. Their decent streets were demoralized. They went quietly about their business as best they might, pursuing, even while the war was in progress, their labours in the aid of drunkards and slaves, their succour of the uneducated.

They built schools for the negroes, and when, after the revolution was at an end (whereupon they duly suffered at the hands of the rejoicing multitude), there came the scandal of the “walking purchase” of land from the Indians and the fear of a serious outbreak, they formed a private association and pacified the Indians, preventing warfare at the cost to themselves of weeks of negotiation and the sum of five thousand pounds paid by them. Incidents of this type occur again and again in Quaker history, and are practical proof of the fact that their avoidance of the spirit of strife, so often present in political life, was no kind of timidity, of passive resistance, or comfortable retirement from the business of the world. Least of all was it indifference to what went forward in the public affairs of the nation.

Apart from its temporary dominion of “affairs,” American Quakerism follows much the same line of development as does the movement at home. The original impulse tends to be superseded for the imitative mass by a doctrine embodied in an institution; the dogma of the Inner Light becomes dangerously absolutist. There is a corresponding return to the steadying refuge of an infallible scripture, and the modern church, while still united and distinguishable by the marks of Quaker culture, of faith and practice, kindling here and there to the older insight and vision, shows a divided front.

In 1827 a large group—now known as Hicksites—separated under Elias Hicks, whose repudiation of doctrines and creeds, and insistence on right living, resulted, in the opinion of “orthodox” Friends, in a wrong attitude towards Christ and the scriptures. The evangelical reaction in England, which was, in part, a result of the Hicksite controversy, brought about a further division in America under John Wilbur, who protested against Evangelical biblicism, and reasserted the doctrine of the Inner Light, insisted on plainness of speech and dress, and looked with suspicion upon “art.” The orthodox group, deeply tinged with Protestant evangelicalism, have largely adopted the pastoral system. There are now at least four distinct groups in America.[21]