temptation is that I have too much formed in my own mind what I think I am to be; which may outwardly encourage me in a path that nothing but the dictates of conscience should lead me into. I am really weak in faith and in works. I believe, at least I have a hope, that if I exert the little power I now have given me, the day will come when I shall feel the power of God within me. "13th.-Narrow is the path that leadeth unto life eternal, and few there be that find it. There are many called, but few chosen-for though we are blessed with being called, yet if we follow not when we are called, and that strictly, we do not deserve to be called the children of God, for, as it says in Revelations, 'He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will be his God and he shall be my son.' "Eleventh Month, 17th, First day-In the evening, with my children, I had, in some respects, a very comfortable time; it was at least my wish to act right with them. In part of one of the chapters I seemed carried through to explain something to them in a way I hardly ever did before. It was striking the difference in my power this evening and this day week. This day week I tried and tried to explain, and the more I tried the more I seemed to blunder; and this evening I was determined not to attempt it unless I felt capable; and that I did, suddenly and unexpectedly to myself. I had a flow of ideas come one after another, in a sweet and refreshing way. The rest of the evening was principally spent with Hannah Scarnell talking about my poor mother, who died this day seven years. "26th. Towards the latter part of yesterday evening I had some uncomfortable mental feelings, and this morning they really amounted to pain of mind. I believe they were deep and inward temptations of the imagination. Silent waiting upon God seemed my only resource, and it was difficult to do so. It was like a trial in my mind between the two powers. My imagination I think was partly set at work by being nervous, rather more so than usual; and it requires spiritual strength to overcome the painful workings of nervous imagination. There are few temptations, I be lieve, so hard to overcome, as those that try to put on the appearance of duties. They are willing to represent the Spirit of truth in our hearts. At such times, before I act try quietly to wait upon God; look to Him for help: and when things at all appear in the light of duties, the thought of which produces agony to the soul, it requires much deliberation before we act. "Twelfth Month, 11th.-In the afternoon I was rather industrious. I was uncertain whether to go to the Grove or not, but at last I fixed to do so. In going there I observed the sweet states I had experienced for being obedient. My path seemed clear, and my heart acknowledged 'I have sought and have found, I have knocked and it has been opened unto me.' It also appeared to me in how beautiful a manner things work together for good. After all this again myself got the victory, and I came home with a degree of remorse for saying more upon some subjects than I should have said. How great a virtue is silence, properly attended to!" CHAPTER SECOND. MARRIAGE AND THE MINISTRY. We have now seen Elizabeth Gurney, at the age of nineteen, developed into an earnest, pious and sensible Quaker. ess, lovely in person, agreeable in manners, and full of ben evolent impulses and aspirations, already conscious of a call to the highest work of which man is capable, and steadily engaged in the preparatory offices of teaching the young. and giving help to the needy. In addition to her Sabbatt evening class in the Testament, she had for some time kept a charity day school for poor children, at her father's resi dence. This school enlarged until it numbered eighty-six pupils, all of which she taught and governed with a tact pe culiar to herself. She also visited the sick, reading and con versing with them as opportunity offered. All this appears to have been done, less from sense of duty, than from the kindly impulses of her own heart. "At this time, Elizabeth Gurney wore the cap and close handkerchief of Friends, and with the dress had adopted their other peculiarities. This added to her comfort and spared her many difficulties. Of the truth of their principles she had long been convinced, and had deliberately chosen Quakerism as the future religious profession of her life. "Her mind, being thus established on matters of the first importance, was better prepared to entertain a subject which now claimed her consideration-proposals of marriage from Mr. Joseph Fry, at that time engaged with his brother, Mr. William Fry, in extensive business in London. Her timid, sensitive nature shrank at first from so momentous a question, and for a time she seemed unable, or unwilling to encounter the responsibility. Gradually, with individual pref erence, her mind opened to the suitability of the connection. Her habits and education had rendered affluence almost essential to her comfort; whilst entering Mr. Fry's family and the prospect of residing among Friends offered great and strong inducements to her feelings. Her anxious desire to be rightly guided in her decision is marked by the following letter to her cousin Joseph Gurney Bevan." (Memoir.) The following minute of self-examination is given before the letter referred to as it precedes it in date. Twelfth Month, 12th. (1799)—I believe the true state of my mind is as follows. I have, almost ever since I have been a little under the influence of religion, thought marriage at this time was not a good thing for me; as it might lead my interests and affections from that source in which they should be centered; and also if I have any active duties to perform in the church, if I really follow, as far as I am able the voice of Truth in my heart, are they not rather incom. patible with the duties of a wife and mother? And is it not safest to wait and see what is the probable course I shall take in this life, before I enter into any engagement that affects my future career? So I think, and so I have thought. But to look on the other side. If Truth appears to tell me I may marry, I should leave the rest, and hope, whatsoever my duties are, I shall be able to perform them; but it is now, at this time the prayer of my heart that if I ever should be a mother I may rest with my children, and really find my duties lead me to them and my husband; and if my duty ever leads me from my family, that it may be in single life. I must leave all to the wisdom of a superior Power, and, in humble confidence, pray for assistance, both now and forevermore, in performing the Divine will." "My dearest Cousin:- Clapham, Fourth Month, 1800. It is not pleasant to me having a subject that now is of no small importance to me unknown to thee, for I feel thee to be, and love thee as my kind friend. Some time ago Joseph Fry, youngest son of William Storrs Fry of London, paid us a visit at Earlham and made me an offer of marriage. Since our stay in the neighborhood he has renewed his addresses. I have had many doubts, many risings and fallings about the affair. My most anxious wish is that I may not hinder my spiritual welfare, which I have so much feared as to make me often doubt if marriage were a desirable thing for me at this time, or even the thoughts of it. But as I wish (at least I think I wish) in this as in other things to do the will of God, I hope I shall be shown the path right for me to walk in. I do not think I could have refused him, with a proper authority at this time. If I am to marry before very long it overturns my theories, and may teach me that the ways of the Lord are unsearchable; and that I am not to draw out a path of right for myself; but to look to the One who only knows what is really good for me. But the idea of leaving my station at home is to me surprising, as I had not thought that would have been the case, and perhaps it may not now happen, but it does not seem improbable. How anxiously do I desire I may, through all, strive after the knowledge of God, and one day, if it be right, obtain it. Excuse this hasty scrawl and believe me, my dear cousin, thy very affectionate E. GURNEY." |