The meeting was opened when the eight women and the five men had taken their places on the facing seats and exchanged their silent handclasps, with which also the meeting closes. They were, truly, the elders of this house, the ones who can remember farthest back into the times when all the women, and not just three or four, wore close Quaker bonnets. A tiny woman in gray rose twice from her facing place to confirm what had been said. Some one had greeted the members of the London Meeting and recalled her own warm welcome at that meeting many years ago. The little old woman rose swiftly, and, looking down at the English people, said, with infinite dignity and sweetness in her voice, “We are very glad to have these Friends with us. I also remember the very cordial welcome I received from the London Meeting.” The very slow, quiet words had the sound of deep ceremony, of the conferring of great and unforgettable honor upon these visitors from another country.
There was a prayer for strength “to partake of Thy Spirit,” a poem read which said, “Has the Gospel of Peace then failed us, That such a thing can be?” and many suggestions concerning appreciations, sympathies, letters, to be sent. Resolutions, called minutes, were gently put, and a soft voice would come from somewhere, saying, “I should approve that,” followed by a chorus of “So should I.”
In the Gymnasium are the old books, the record of the things which the oldest Friends remember, and of things which happened so far back in the years that May was spoken of as Third Month instead of Fifth. This was in the oldest book of them all, unbound until recently, with yellowed, stained, finely written pages, the “Paper of Advice” sent by George Fox to the Quakers of Long Island. It was brought there by John Burnyeat on the twenty-ninth day of the then third month, 1671. Records of all births, deaths, marriages, removals, are here since 1672, long before other denominations or governments began to keep such close watch of statistics. For birthright membership is the very basis of the old faith, the heritage which comes down from father to son through the centuries and which keeps the bonds so close that bind the families and the friends of Friends, one to another.