father at that time had two houses, one in Norwich, and one at Bramerton, a sweet country place, situated on a Common, near a pretty village; here, I believe, many of my early tastes were formed, though we left to reside at Earlham, when I was about five years old. The impressions then received remain lively on my recollection; the delight in the beauty and wild scenery in parts of the Common, the trees, the flowers, and the little rills, that abounded on it, the farm-houses, the village school, and the different poor people and their cottages; particularly a poor woman with one arm, whom we called one-armed Betty; another neighbour, Greengrass, and her strawberry beds round a little pond; our gardener, who lived near a large piece of water, and used to bring fish from it; here, I think, my great love for the country, the beauties of nature, and attention to the poor, began. My mother was most dear to me, and the walks she took with me in the old-fashioned garden, are as fresh with me, as if only just passed; and her telling me about Adam and Eve being driven out of Paradise: I always considered it must be just like our garden at Bramerton. I remember that my spirits were not strong; that I frequently cried if looked at, and used to say that my eyes were weak; but I remember much pleasure and little suffering, or particular tendency to naughtiness, up to this period. Fear about this time began to show itself, of people and things: I remember being so much afraid of a gun, that I gave up an expedition of pleasure with my father and mother, because there was a gun in the carriage. I was also exceedingly afraid of the dark, and suffered so acutely from being left alone without a light after I went to bed, that I believe my nervous system was injured in consequence of it; also, I had so great a dread of bathing, (to which I was at times obliged to submit,) that the first sight of the sea, when we were as a family going to stay by it, would make me cry; indeed, fear was so strong a principle in my mind, as greatly to mar the natural pleasure of childhood. I am now of opinion, that it would have been much more subdued, and great suffering spared, by its having been still more yielded to; by having a light left in my room, not being long left alone; and never forced to bathe; for I do not at all doubt that it partly arose from that nervous susceptible constitution,

that has at times, throughout my life, caused me such real and deep suffering. I know not what would have been the consequence, had I had any other than a most careful and wise mother and judicious nurses, or had I been alarmed, as too many children are, by false threats of what might happen.

I had, as well as a fearful, rather a reserved mind, for I never remember telling of my many painful fears, though I must often have shown them by weeping when left in the dark, and on other occasions this reserve made me little understood, and thought very little of, except by my mother and one or two others. I was considered and called very stupid and obstinate. I certainly did not like learning, nor did I, I believe, attend to my lessons, partly from a delicate state of health, that produced languor of mind as well as body; but, I think, having the name of being stupid really tended to make me so, and discouraged my efforts to learn. I remember having a poor, not to say low opinion of myself, and used to think that I was so very inferior to my sisters, Catherine and Rachel. I believe I had not a name only for being obstinate, for my nature had then a strong tendency that way; and I was disposed to a spirit of contradiction, always ready to see things a little differently from others, and not willing to yield my sentiments to theirs.

My natural affections were very strong from my early childhood, at times almost overwhelmingly so; such was the love for my mother, that the thought that she might die and leave me used to make me weep after I went to bed, and for the rest of the family, that notwithstanding my fearful nature, my childlike wish was, that two large walls might crush us all together, that we might die at once, and thus avoid the misery of each other's death. I seldom, if I could help it, left my mother's side, I watched her when asleep in the day with exquisite anxiety, and used to go gently to her bed-side to listen, from the awful fear that she did not breathe; in short, I may truly say, it amounted to deep reverence, that I felt for my father and mother. I never remember, as a little child, but once being punished by my mother; and she then mistook tears of sorrow for tears of naughtiness, a thing that deeply impressed me, and I have never forgotten the pain it gave me. Although I do not imply that I

had no faults, far from it, as some of the faults of my childhood are very lively in my recollection; yet from my extreme love and fear, many of these faults were known almost only to myself. My imagination was lively, and I once remember, and only once, telling a real untruth with one of my sisters and one of my brothers. We saw a bright light one morning, which we represented far above the reality, and upon the real thing being shown us that we had seen, we made it out not to be it. My remembrance is of the pleasure of my childhood being almost spoiled through fear, and my religious impressions, such as I had, were accompanied by gloom: on this account, I think the utmost care needed, in representing religious truth to children, that fearful views of it should be most carefully avoided, lest it should give a distaste for that which is most precious. First show them the love and mercy of God in Christ Jesus, and the sweetness and blessedness of his service; and such things in scripture, for instance, as Abraham's sacrifice, should be carefully explained to them. I think I suffered much in my youth from the most tender nervous system; I certainly felt symptoms of ill health before my mother died, that I thought of speaking to her about, but never did, partly because I did not know how to explain them; but they ended afterwards in very severe attacks of illness. I have always thought being forced to bathe was one cause of this, and I mention it, because I believe it a dangerous thing to do to children. What care is needful not to force children to learn too much, as it not only injures them, but gives a distaste for intellectual pursuits. Instruction should be adapted to their condition, and communicated in an easy and agreeable way.

How great is the importance of a wise mother, directing the tastes of her children in very early life, and judiciously influencing their affections! I remember with pleasure my mother's beds for wild flowers, which, with delight, I used, as a child, to attend to with her; it gave me that pleasure in observing their beauties and varieties, that though I never have had time to become a botanist, few can imagine, in my many journeys, how I have been pleased and refreshed, by observing and enjoying the wild flowers on my way. Again, she collected

shells, and had a cabinet, and bought one for Rachel and myself, where we placed our curiosities; and I may truly say, in the midst even of deep trouble, and often most weighty engagements of a religious and philanthropic nature, I have derived advantage, refreshment, and pleasure, from my taste for these things, making collections of them, and various natural curiosities, although, as with the flowers, I have not studied them scientifically.

My mother also encouraged my most close friendship with my sister Rachel, and we had our pretty light closet, our books, our pictures, our curiosities, our tea things, all to ourselves; and as far as I can recollect, we unitedly partook of these pleasures, without any of the little jealousies, or the quarrels of childhood.

My mother, as far as she knew, really trained us up in the fear and love of the Lord; my deep impression is, that she was a holy devoted follower of the Lord Jesus; but that her understanding was not fully enlightened as to the fulness of gospel truth. She taught us as far as she knew, and I now remember the solemn religious feelings I had whilst sitting in silence with her after reading the scriptures, or a Psalm before we went to bed. I have no doubt that her prayers were not in vain in the Lord. She died when I was twelve years old; the remembrance of her illness and death is sad, even to the present day.

CHAPTER II.

1790-1798. Sketch of female society-Circumstances of Elizabeth Gurney and her sisters-Her character and habits--Natural qualities as a young person-Absence of religious knowledge-Established principles requisite to happiness-William Savery comes to Norwich on a religious visit-General view of the origin and opinions of the Quakers-Effects of William Savery's preaching-Description by himself-Account by one of her sisters-Her own journal.

AMONG the vast changes of the last century, there was no change greater than that which took place in the education of

women.

Addison, and his coadjutors, were among the foremost to teach the women of modern England, that they possessed powers of mind, and capabilities of usefulness. Many, as they sipped their coffee, with the Spectator of the morning in their hand, were awakened to the consciousness of a higher destiny for woman, than the labour of the tapestry frame, or pursuits of an entirely frivolous nature. A taste for reading became more or less general. The heavy wisdom of Johnson, the lighter wit of Swift, the satire of Pope, the pathos of Gray, and the close painting of Goldsmith, found among women not only those who could enjoy, but who could appreciate their different excellencies. Mrs. Montague, Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Chapone, with a group of gifted friends and associates, proved to the world the possibility of high literary attainments existing with every feminine grace and virtue. The stimulus was given, but like all other changes in society, the opposite extreme was reached, before the right and reasonable was discovered. Infidelity was making slow, though sure advances upon the Continent. Rousseau and