ELIZABETH FRY

I.
BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS

Elizabeth Fry was born in Norwich, on the 21st of June, 1780. She was the third daughter of John Gurney, of Earlham, Norfolk, and Catherine Bell, daughter of Daniel Bell, merchant in London. Mrs. Bell was a descendant of the ancient family of the Barclays of Ury in Kincardineshire, and granddaughter of Robert Barclay, the well-known apologist of the Quakers.

John Gurney of Earlham, born in 1749, was educated in the principles of the Society of Friends, but as he advanced in life, and associated with persons of various Christian denominations, the strictness of his religious opinions was much relaxed, and he showed liberality of sentiment towards others, even if they were indifferent to all spiritual concerns. In fact, in those times there was throughout England, in all the churches, a decay of faith and a tendency to unbelief; against which a few men made noble protest, till the religious Revival, led by Whitefield and Wesley, inaugurated a happier era.

We are, therefore, not surprised to read that the daughters of John Gurney, deprived in early life of their mother's care, were accustomed to mingle with people entirely devoid of religion, although some of these were accomplished and talented in their way. The father continued formally to attend the Friends' Meeting; and the eldest daughter, Catherine, being of a thoughtful mind and with desire for instruction, was of use to her sisters in somewhat checking their love of worldly pleasure and amusements. Of Elizabeth, it is said that in her young days "she was singularly attractive; her figure tall, her countenance sweet and pleasing, and her person and manners dignified and lovely. She was gentle and quiet in temper, yet evinced a strong will." The visits of different Friends, especially her uncle Joseph Gurney, who always had much influence with her, both then and during her future life, helped to confirm the good teaching of her mother in childhood.

II.
BEGINS A PRIVATE JOURNAL: WITH RECORD OF HER EXPERIENCES

In 1793, when in her seventeenth year, Elizabeth Gurney began to keep a private Journal.¹ In the early part of this record she frankly tells her proceedings day after day, and describes the long and gradual struggle that took place in her heart, which ended in her conversion by the power of the Holy Spirit, and in her thorough consecration to the service of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a most instructive record, especially for the young.

Her father, a man popular on account of his genial ways and social disposition, making no objection, she joined, with some of her sisters, in all the gaieties of life in Norwich. Prince William Frederick, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, was then quartered with his regiment there, and there was an incessant round of pleasures—balls, concerts, and oratorios. Elizabeth Gurney entered into all the gaiety, but she was ill at ease. She says, "I see the folly of the world. My mind is very flat after this storm of pleasure." "I do believe if I had a little true religion, I should have a greater support than I have now."

She had also before this time given expression to the better dispositions of her natural heart, saying, "I must do what I can to alleviate the sorrows of others; exert what power I have to increase happiness; try to govern my passions by reason; and adhere strictly to what I think right."

This condition of her mind, with alternate indulgence in vanity and resolutions after better things, lasted till she was twenty-two years of age, when she came to the settled conviction that "it is almost impossible to keep strictly to principle without religion. I don't feel any real religion; I should think those feelings impossible to obtain, for even if I thought all the Bible was true, I do not think I could make myself feel it: I think I never saw any person who appeared so totally destitute of it."

It was something to arrive at the conviction that she lacked the one thing needful; and that she felt that more than natural effort, even the power of the Holy Spirit, was necessary to awaken her to new life, and to change her heart. The arrival at Norwich of an American friend, William Savery, "a man who seemed to overflow with true religion, and to be humble, and yet a man of great abilities," confirmed her in her dissatisfaction with her own state, and strengthened her desires after a new life. Of him, she says, that "having been gay and disbelieving only a few years ago, makes him better acquainted with the heart of one in the same situation."

III.
FIRST VISIT TO LONDON

While in this unsettled and partially awakened state of mind, Elizabeth's father proposed to take her to see London, an offer which she gladly closed with, without any thought beyond the excitement of new scenes and pleasures. He took her there, and left her for several weeks, under the care of a relative. It was a perilous trial for a young girl, but the result was for her happy. The effect was to disgust her more with the world and mere worldly amusements, and to fix her heart more surely where true peace can alone be found.

In the middle of April, after having been seven weeks in London, her father came to take her home, and very thankful she was to get back to the quiet country. A few days after, a letter came from William Savery, to whom she seems to have written asking his counsel. It was a long epistle, full of wise and faithful advice, and showing most loving interest in his young friend's welfare. A few sentences will give the substance of his letter, which may be read by others with as much advantage as it was by Elizabeth Gurney. "I know, my dear, thou hast, and wilt have, many temptations to combat with: thou wilt, doubtless, be frequently importuned to continue with thy gay acquaintance, in pursuit of that false glare of happiness, which the world, in too bewitching and deceitful colours, holds out to the unwary traveller, and which certainly ends in blinding the intellectual eye from discovering the pure source of soul-felt pleasure resulting from a humble heart, at peace with its God, its neighbour, and itself.

"Thee asks my advice, my dear friend, and without any premeditation when I sat down, I find I have been attempting to give it; but it is very evident thou art under the special care of an infinitely better Instructor, who has already uttered His soft and heavenly voice, to teach thee that the first step towards religion is true humility; because in that state only we can feel the need we have of an arm, stronger than human, to lean upon, to lead us out of and keep us from things which hinder our access to, and confidence in, that boundless source of purity, love, and mercy; who, amidst all the vicissitudes of time, is disposed to be our Shepherd, Guardian, and Friend, in whom we may trust and never be afraid; but this blessed confidence is not, cannot be enjoyed by the gay, the giddy, proud, or abandoned votaries of this world."

Up to this time she had adopted none of the distinctive peculiarities of the Society of Friends. Although from custom attending the meetings, she did not confine herself to the services there; for we read such entries as this, "I went to St. Peter's and heard a good sermon. The common people seemed very much occupied, and wrapt up in the service, which I was pleased to see; afterwards I went to the cathedral." She had already commenced efforts to be useful to others, visiting the sick, and teaching the children of her poorer neighbours, in Norwich, or at Bramerton, then a quiet, pleasant village, where the family usually resided in summer. "I have some thoughts," she says, "of increasing by degrees my plan for Sunday evening, and of having several poor children, at least, to read in the Testament and religious books for an hour. It might increase morality among the lower classes if the Scriptures were oftener and better read to them." Sunday school work she for herself discovered to be a profitable, as she found it to be a delightful task. All this time she was diligent in study, and in the intellectual culture of her own mind, as we find from her Journal.

"I had a good lesson of French this morning, and read much in Epictetus." Later on, we find her intent on the books of Dr. Isaac Watts, his Logic especially, which Dr. Johnson had commended strongly to all who sought the "improvement of the mind."

IV.
AT COLEBROOK DALE, AND ON A JOURNEY TO WALES

In the summer of 1798, John Gurney took the whole of his seven daughters an excursion through parts of England and Wales. At Colebrook Dale, where they saw several relatives, members of the Society of Friends, Elizabeth Gurney received the deepest impressions. She was especially struck with the veteran philanthropist, Richard Reynolds, who having made a large fortune in his well-managed iron-works, spent his money and time in seeking the moral good of the working people. At Colebrook Dale also she spent some days with an elderly cousin, Priscilla Hannah Gurney, cousin to the Earlham Gurneys by both father and mother, her father being Joseph Gurney and her mother Christiana Barclay. Being left by her father alone for some days with this cousin, the influence of the visit was very powerful on her. "She was exactly the person to attract the young; she possessed singular beauty, and elegance of manner. She was of the old school; her costume partook of this, and her long retention of the black hood gave much character to her appearance. She had early renounced the world and its fascinations; left Bath, where her mother and sister Christiana Gurney resided; became eventually a minister among Friends; and found a congenial retreat for many years at Colebrook Dale."

The travelling party went on to make a tour in Wales and to attend the gathering of Friends at the Welsh half-yearly meeting. Most of the Colebrook Dale Friends were present, and further converse with Priscilla Gurney induced her niece to resolve openly to conform to Quaker customs, though at what precise time she became professedly a Friend we are not told. As to the costume, she was very slow in adopting it—not till some time after returning to Norwich.

In this early Welsh journey a singular prediction was given in an address by an aged Friend, Deborah Darby, who said of her that "she would be a light to the blind, speech to the dumb, and feet to the lame." "Can it be? She seems as if she thought I was to be a minister of Christ. Can I ever be one?" asks Elizabeth Gurney in her Journal.