Philadelphia Quaker: The Letters of Hannah Whitall Smith (review)

114Bulletin of Friends Historical Association Philadelphia Quaker: The Letters of Hannah Whitall Smith. (English title : A Religious Rebel) . Edited by Logan Pearsall Smith, with a Biographical Preface by Robert Gathorne-Hardy. New York: Harcourt , Brace and Company. 1950. xxii, 234 pages. $3.00. This book can be read with profit and delight by young and old and should be "required" reading for all members of the Society of Friends in England and America, because, in a most unique and refreshing way, "H.W.S." in her letters gives the background of the religious and social thought of her generation of Quakers (1832-1911). She was always frankly and sincerely herself—not so much a rebel against the actual deep religious beliefs of her generation as she was a rebel against all intolerance, whether in the expression of religious doctrine or of a way of life itself. Gay and bubbling over with the joy of life as the book is, it is impossible to read it without realizing that the roots of Hannah Whitall Smith's life were vital, spiritual ones, from which all else in her personality stemmed. Hers was a Quaker home permeated by religion. God was always in their thoughts, and their every act was as if performed under His eyes. Even when young, their dreams were of God or Satan. A story she tells of her eight-year-old daughter Ray illustrates this: "Well, mother," Ray said as I was tucking her in bed, "Satan has been at it again." "And what did he say this time?" I asked. "Oh, he said, 'Ray, if I was thee I would not believe the Bible is true, for it is not,' and he tried to coax me not to believe it." "And what was thy answer?" I asked. "Why mother," she replied, "I said to him 'Satan, shut thy mouth.'" Her husband, Robert Pearsall Smith, became famous both in England and America as an evangelical preacher and in much of his work H.W.S. joined, becoming herself a persuasive and magnetic speaker. However, theology and dogmatism wearied her forthright spirit. "If you but grant me an omnipotent and just Creator, I need nothing more. God is love comprises my whole system of ethics. There is certainly a very grave defect in any doctrine that makes its holders narrow and uncharitable, and this is always the case with strict socalled orthodoxy." She always despised what she termed "piety" and in all discussion of religious things, her bubbling, irrepressible humor is apparent. She says: "I went last evening with Logan to a concert. The music was very fine, Logan said, and it did sound nice, but my inward ear for music has never been opened yet, and I confess I did not particularly enjoy it. Logan says that is an evolution I shall have to get in Heaven. And I suppose I must if I am to enjoy the harps there. At present, I confess, a very short exercise in harp playing suffices me." One of the most endearing sides to her personality was her genuine sympathy with and understanding of the younger generation. She says: Book Reviews115 The coming generation are not going to see things as we have seen them, that is very clear . . . But this does not trouble me . . . this coming generation is inspired with very high ideals and is filled with a generous impulse for the uplifting of humanity that is far ahead of what was known when we were young . . . our great concern . . . was to save our own souls, while the great concern of the coming generation now is to save the souls of others. At whatever personal sacrifice, she entered gaily into all the fun of her children and grandchildren, going with them on arduous camping trips in the Adirondacks and in the Rocky Mountains. The inimitable descriptions of her physical agonies and hardships are riotous, and bring tears of laughter to any reader who has suffered on such so-called pleasure trips. Forced to ride an old pack horse named Foxy, she says: "The trails were often so steep, and the gullies we had to cross so deep and abrupt, and the saddle...