from nature, in order to promote that knowledge and facilitate the
pursuit of it. As a great portion of a woman's life ought to be
passed in at least regulating the subordinate affairs of a family,
she should work plain work herself, neatly; understand the
cutting-out of linen; also she should not be ignorant of the common
proprieties of a table, or deficient in the economy of any of the
most minute affairs of a family. It should be here observed that
gentleness of manner is indispensably necessary in women, to say
nothing of that polished behavior which adds a charm to every
qualification; to both which, it appears pretty certain, children
may be led without vanity or affectation by amiable and judicious
instruction.

These observations furnish the key-note to Mrs. Gurney's system of
training, as well as indicate the strong common-sense and high
principles which actuated her. It was small wonder that of her family of
twelve children so many of them should rise up to "call her blessed."
Neither was it any wonder that Elizabeth, "the dove-like Betsy" of her
mother's journal, should idolize that mother with almost passionate
devotion.

Elizabeth was born on May 21st, 1780, at Norwich; but when she was a
child of six years old, the Gurneys removed to Earlham Hall, a pleasant
ancestral home, about two miles from the city. The family was an old
one, descended from the Norman lords of Gourney-en-brai, in Normandy.
These Norman lords held lands in Norfolk, in the time of William Rufus,
and have had, in one line or another, representatives down to the
present day. Some of them, it is recorded, resided in Somersetshire;
others, the ancestors of Mrs. Fry, dwelt in Norfolk, generation after
generation, perpetuating the family name and renown. One of these
ancestors, John Gurney, embraced the principles of George Fox, and
became one of the first members of the Society of Friends. Thus it came
to pass that Quakerism became familiar to her from early
childhood--indeed, was hereditary in the family.

Elizabeth tells us that her mother was most dear to her; that she seldom
left her mother's side if she could help it, while she would watch her
slumbers with breathless anxiety, fearing she would never awaken. She
also speaks of suffering much from fear, so that she could not bear to
be left alone in the dark. This nervous susceptibility followed her for
years, although, with