Elizabeth Fry | Page 3

unswerving loyalty to duty, and her fearless perseverance in works of
benevolence, were all foreshadowed in these early days. Add to these
characteristics, the religious training which Mrs. Gurney gave her
children, the daily reading of the Scriptures, and the quiet ponderings
upon the passages read, and we cannot be surprised that such a
character was built up in that Quaker home.
At twelve years of age Elizabeth lost her mother, and in consequence
suffered much from lack of wise womanly training. The talents she
possessed ripened and developed, however, until she became
remarkable for originality of thought and action; while the spirit of
benevolent enterprise which distinguished her, led her to seek out
modes of usefulness not usually practiced by girls. Her obstinacy and
spirit of contradiction became in later years gradually merged or
transformed into that decision of character, and lady-like firmness,
which were so needful to her work, so that obstacles became only
incentives to progress, and persecution furnished courage for renewed
zeal. Yet all this was tempered with tender, conscientious
heart-searching into both motives and actions.
During her "teens" she is described as being tall and slender, peculiarly
graceful in the saddle, and fond of dancing. She possessed a pleasing
countenance and manner, and grew up to enjoy the occasional parties
which she attended with her sisters. Still, from the records of her
journal, we find that at this time neither the grave worship of
Quakerism nor the gayeties of Norwich satisfied her eager spirit. We
find too, how early she kept this journal, and from it we obtain the
truest and most interesting glimpses into her character and feelings.
Thus at seventeen years of age she wrote:--
I am seventeen to-day. Am I a happier or a better creature than I was
this day twelvemonths? I know I am happier--I think I am better. I hope
I shall be happier this day year than I am now. I hope to be quite an
altered person; to have more knowledge; to have my mind in greater
order, and my heart too, that wants to be put in order quite as much.... I

have seen several things in myself and others I never before remarked,
but I have not tried to improve myself--I have given way to my
passions, and let them have command over me, I have known my faults
and not corrected them--and now I am determined I will once more try
with redoubled ardor to overcome my wicked inclinations. I must not
flirt; I must not be out of temper with the children; I must not contradict
without a cause; I must not allow myself to be angry; I must not
exaggerate, which I am inclined to do; I must not give way to luxury; I
must not be idle in mind. I must try to give way to every good feeling,
and overcome every bad. I have lately been too satirical, so as to hurt
sometimes: remember it is always a fault to hurt others.
I have a cross to-night. I had very much set my mind on going to the
Oratorio. The Prince is to be there, and by all accounts it will be quite a
grand sight, and there will be the finest music; but if my father does not
wish me to go, much as I wish it, I will give it up with pleasure, if it be
in my power, without a murmur.... I went to the Oratorio. I enjoyed it,
but I spoke sadly at random--what a bad habit!
There is much difference between being obstinate and steady. If I am
bid to do a thing my spirit revolts; if I am asked to do a thing, I am
willing.... A thought passed my mind that if I had some religion I
should be superior to what I am; it would be a bias to better actions. I
think I am by degrees losing many excellent qualities. I am more cross,
more proud, 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