more vain, more
extravagant. I lay it to my great love of gayety and the world. I
feel, I know I am falling. I do believe if I had a little true
religion I should have a greater support than I have now; but I
have the greatest fear of religion, because I never saw a person
religious who was not enthusiastic.

It will be seen that Elizabeth at this period enjoyed the musical and
social pleasures of Norwich, while at the same time she had decided
leanings towards the plain, religious customs of the Friends. It is not
wonderful that her heart was in a state of unrest and agitation, that at
times she scarcely knew what she longed for, nor what she desired to
forsake. The society with which she was accustomed to mingle contained
some known in Quaker parlance as "unbelievers"; perhaps in our day they
would be regarded as holding "advanced opinions." One of the most
intimate visitors at Earlham was a gentleman belonging to the Roman
Catholic communion, but his acquaintance seemed rather to be a benefit
than otherwise, for he referred the young Gurneys in all matters of
faith to the "written word" rather than to the opinions of men or books
generally. Another visitor, a lady afterwards known to literature as
Mrs. Schimmelpenninck, was instrumental in leading them to form sound
opinions upon the religious questions of the day. They were thus
preserved from the wave of scepticism which was then sweeping over the
society of that day.

Judging from her journal of this date, it is not easy to detect much, if
any, promise of the future self-denying philanthropy. She seemed
nervously afraid of "enthusiasm in religion"; even sought to shun
anything which appeared different from the usual modes of action among
the people with whom she mingled. A young girl who confessed that she
had "the greatest fear of religion," because in her judgment and
experience enthusiasm was always allied with religion, was not, one
would suppose, in much danger of becoming remarkable for philanthropy.
True, she was accustomed to doing good among the poor and sick,
according to her opportunities and station; but this was nothing
strange--all the traditions of Quaker life inculcate benevolence and
kindly dealing--what she needed was "_the expulsive power of a new
affection_." This "new affection"--the love of Christ--in its turn
expelled the worldliness and unrest which existed, and gave a tone to
her mental and spiritual nature, whi