They are long-lived, many of their members having lived to past ninety.

They have one now aged ninety-eight years.

SHAKER LITERATURE, SPIRITUALISM, ETC.

"It should be distinctly understood that special inspired gifts have not ceased, but still continue among this people:" so reads a brief note to the Preface of "Christ's First and Second Appearing," the edition of 1854.

In the "Testimonies concerning the Character and Ministry of Mother Ann Lee," a considerable number of her followers who had known her personally, being her contemporaries, relate particulars of her teaching and conduct, and not a few give instances of so-called miraculous cures of diseases or injuries, performed by her upon themselves or others.

The hymns or "spiritual songs" they sing are said by the Shakers to be brought to them, almost without exception, from the "spirit-land;" and the airs to which these songs are sung are believed to come from the same source. There are, however, two collections of Hymns, to most of whose contents this origin is not attributed, though even in these some of the hymns purport to have been "given by inspiration."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A SHAKER SCHOOL]

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHAKER MUSIC HALL]

In the older of these collections, "A Selection of Hymns and Poems for the Use of Believers," printed at Watervliet, in Ohio, 1833, one can trace some of the earlier trials of the societies, and the evils they had to contend with within themselves. The Western societies, for instance, appear to have early opposed the drinking of intoxicating beverages. Here is a rhyme, dated 1817, which appeals to the members in the cause of total abstinence:

"From all intoxicating drink Ancient Believers did abstain; Then say, good brethren, do you think That such a cross was all in vain?

"Inebriation, we allow, First paved the way for am'rous deeds; Then why should poisonous spirits now Be ranked among our common needs?

"As an apothecary drug, Its wondrous virtues some will plead; And hence we find the stupid _Slug_ A morning dram does often need.

"Fatigue or want of appet.i.te At noon will crave a little more, And so the same complaints at night Are just as urgent as before.

"By want of sleep, and this and that, His thirst for liquor is increased; Till he becomes a bloated sot-- The very scarlet-colored beast.

"Why, then, should any soul insist On such pernicious, pois'nous stuff?

Malignant _spirits_, you're dismissed!

You have possessed us long enough."

As a note to this temperance rhyme, stands the following:

"CH. RULE.--All spirituous liquors should be kept under care of the nurses, that no drams in any case whatever should be dispensed to persons in common health, and that frivolous excuses of being unwell should not be admitted. Union Village, 1826."

"Slug," in the third of the preceding verses, seems to have been a cant term among the early Shakers for a sluggard and selfish fellow, a kind of creature they have pretty thoroughly extirpated; and presumably by such free speech as is used in the following amusing rhymes:

"The depth of language I have dug To show the meaning of a Slug; And must conclude, upon the whole, It means a stupid, lifeless soul, Whose object is to live at ease, And his own carnal nature please; Who always has some selfish quirk, In sleeping, eating, and at work.

"A lazy fellow it implies, Who in the morning hates to rise; When all the rest are up at four, He wants to sleep a little more.

When others into meeting swarm, He keeps his nest so good and warm, That sometimes when the sisters come To make the beds and sweep the room, Who do they find wrap'd up so snug?

Ah! who is it but Mr. Slug.

"A little cold or aching head Will send him grunting to his bed, And he'll pretend he's sick or sore, Just that he may indulge the more.

Nor would it feel much like a crime If he should sleep one half his time.

"When he gets up, before he's dress'd He's so fatigued he has to rest; And half an hour he'll keep his chair Before he takes the morning air.

He'll sit and smoke in calm repose Until the trump for breakfast blows-- His breakfast-time at length is past, And he must wait another blast; So at the sound of the last sh.e.l.l, He takes his seat and all is well."

"Slug" at the table is thus satirized:

"To save his credit, you must know That poor old Slug eats very slow; And as in justice he does hate That all the rest on him should wait, Sometimes he has to rise and kneel Before he has made out his meal.

Then to make up what he has miss'd, He takes a luncheon in his fist, Or turns again unto the dish, And fully satisfies his wish; Or, if it will not answer then, He'll make it up at half-past ten.

"Again he thinks it quite too soon To eat his dinner all at noon, But as the feast is always free, He takes a snack at half-past three.

He goes to supper with the rest, But, lest his stomach be oppress'd, He saves at least a piece of bread Till just before he goes to bed; So last of all the wretched Slug Has room to drive another plug.

"To fam'ly order he's not bound, But has his springs of union round; And kitchen sisters ev'ry where Know how to please him to a hair: Sometimes his errand they can guess, If not, he can his wants express; Nor from old Slug can they get free Without a cake or dish of tea."

"Slug" at work, or pretending to work, gets a fling also:

"When call'd to work you'll always find The lazy fellow lags behind-- He has to smoke or end his chat, Or tie his shoes, or hunt his hat: So all the rest are busy found Before old Slug gets on the ground; Then he must stand and take his wind Before he's ready to begin, And ev'ry time he straights his back He's sure to have some useless clack; And tho' all others hate the Slug, With folded arms himself he'll hug.

"When he conceits meal-time is near, He listens oft the trump to hear; And when it sounds, it is his rule The first of all to drop his tool; And if he's brisk in any case, It will be in his homeward pace."

Here, too, is a picture of "Slug" shirking his religious duties:

"In his devotions he is known To be the same poor lazy drone: The sweetest songs Believers find Make no impression on his mind; And round the fire he'd rather nod Than labor in the works of G.o.d.

"Some vain excuse he'll often plead That he from worship may be freed-- He's bruis'd his heel or stump'd his toe, And cannot into meeting go; And if he comes he's half asleep, That no good fruit from him we reap: He'll labor out a song or two, And so conclude that that will do; [And, lest through weariness he fall, He'll brace himself against the wall], And well the faithful may give thanks That poor old Slug has quit the ranks.

"When the spectators are address'd, Then is the time for Slug to rest-- From his high lot he can't be hurl'd, To feel toward the wicked world; So he will sit with closed eyes Until the congregation rise; And when the labor we commence, He moves with such a stupid sense-- It often makes spectators stare To see so dead a creature there."

The satire closes with a hit at "Slug's" devotion to tobacco:

"Men of sound reason use their pipes For colics, pains, and windy gripes; And smoking's useful, we will own, To give the nerves and fluids tone; But poor old Slug has to confess He uses it to great excess, And will indulge his appet.i.te Beyond his reason and his light.

If others round him do abstain, It keeps him all the time in pain; And if a sentence should be spoke Against his much-beloved smoke, Tho' it be in the way of joke, He thinks his union's almost broke.

In all such things he's at a loss, Because he thinks not of the cross, But yields himself a willing slave To what his meaner pa.s.sions crave.

"This stupid soul in all his drift Is still behind the proper gift-- With other souls he don't unite, Nor is he zealous to do right.

Among Believers he's a drug, And ev'ry elder hates a Slug.

"When long forbearance is the theme, A warm believer he would seem-- For diff'rent tastes give gen'rous scope, And he is full of faith and hope; But talk about some good church rule, And his high zeal you'll quickly cool.

Indulge him, then, in what is wrong, And Slug will try to move along; Nor will he his own state mistrust, Until he gets so full of l.u.s.t His cross he will no longer tug, Then to the world goes poor old Slug."

"Hoggish nature" comes in for a share of denunciation next in these lines:

"In the increasing work of the gospel we find, The old hoggish nature we will have to bind-- To starve the old glutton, and leave him to shift, Till in union with heaven we eat in a gift.

"What Father will teach me, I'll truly obey; I'll keep Mother's counsel, and not go astray; Then plagues and distempers they will have to cease, In all that live up to the gospel's increase.

"The glutton's a seat in which evil can work, And in hoggish nature diseases will lurk: By faith and good works we can all overcome, And starve the old glutton until he is done.

"But while he continues to guzzle and eat, All kinds of distempers will still find a seat-- The plagues of old Egypt--the scab and the bile, At which wicked spirits and devils will smile.