ed the teachings of Priestley. The result of these two
streams of influence was that the Gregs of Manchester joined the
Unitarians. In this body W. R. Greg was brought up. His mother was a
woman of strongly marked character. She was cultivated, and had some
literary capacity of her own; she cared eagerly for the things of the
mind, both for herself and her children; and in spite of ill health and
abundant cares, she persisted in strenuous effort after a high
intellectual and moral standard. A little book of Maxims compiled by her
still remains; and she found time to write a couple of volumes of
_Practical Suggestions towards alleviating the Sufferings of the Sick_.
One volume is little more than a selection of religious extracts, not
likely to be more apt or useful to the sick than to the whole. The other
is a discreet and homely little manual of nursing, distinguished from
the common run of such books by its delicate consideration and wise
counsel for the peculiar mental susceptibilities of the invalid. The
collection of Maxims and Observations was designed to be 'an useful gift
to her children, gleaned from her own reading and reflection.' Though
not intended for publication, they found their way into a few congenial
circles, and one at least of those who were educated at Dr. Carpenter's
school at Bristol can remember these maxims being read aloud to the
boys, and the impression that their wisdom and morality made upon his
youthful mind. The literary value of the compilation is modest enough.
Along with some of the best of the sayings of Chesterfield, La
Rochefoucauld, Addison, and other famous masters of sentences, is much
that is nearer to the level of nursery commonplace. But then these
commonplaces are new truths to the young, and they are the unadorned,
unseen foundations on which character is built.

The home over which this excellent woman presided offered an ideal
picture of domestic felicity and worth. The grave simplicity of the
household, their intellectual ways, the absence of display and even of
knick-knacks, the pale blue walls, the unadorned furniture, the
well-filled bookcases, the portrait of George Washington over the
chimney-piece, all took people back to a taste that was formed on Mrs.
Barbauld and Dr. Channing. Stanley, afterwards Bishop of Norwich, and
father of the famous Dean of our own day, was rector of the adjoining
parish of Alderley. Catherine Stanley, his wife, has left a charming
memoria