As a survivor of literary, not televised, fame, I know to look to Honeywood, not Hollywood. For there is a good-natured guy who finds his benevolence in everything and everyone he meets. With a Goldsmith's touch, not that of a King Midas, he shapes people and things to his own likeness. His motto of "universal benevolence" is the pen highlighting everything as important or placing confident assurance in the responsibility of everyone.

There but for the teacher who argued that everything highlighted is nothing highlighted. There but for the manager who held that everyone responsible is no one responsible. There but for the uncle who arrested the development of such magnanimity.

So blindly we look mystically for "The Good-Natured Man". We live with a corrupted humanity that cannot easily be returned to its original design. We watch "The Hidden Life Of Bees" even as they are disappearing in reality.

Like the bear roused after a long winter's sleep, today's Quakers are in search of honey in the wood. No climb is too arduous, no stretch too precipitous if we convince ourselves of its sweetness when found. Struggle as we may to survive in a harsh environment, we don't consider that our hoped-for honey has turned to vinegar.

Today's Quakerism, it seems, has yet to awaken to yesterday's comedy of error - explained as "though inclined to the right, I had not courage to condemn the wrong. My charity was but injustice, my benevolence but weakness, and my friendship but credulity." Let us beware, Friends, the blinding glare that accompanies too much light/sight/fright in our darkened world.

But oh, the high relief and play of light and shadow together.