INFANTS whose names are not inserted. In the early part of his illness, he remarked that “it was surprising to himself, how entirely he could leave all earthly things; he had desired to leave all to Him who doeth all things well; and to commit himself into the hands of his dear Saviour.” At another time, he said, “I am very gently and mercifully dealt with, I feel that I am a poor unfaithful creature, but I consider it a favour to be made sensible of this, for it is only of divine mercy that we can rightly feel our need.” Thus kept in humble reliance upon the mercy of God, in Christ Jesus his Saviour, he was permitted to repose on that “Anchor to the soul which is sure and steadfast,” and to cast all his care upon our compassionate and ever present Redeemer. He died at Nantwich, at the house of Croudson Tunstall, whose own death took place little more than a month afterwards. William Newsom , Limerick . 62 6mo. 18 1850 In affixing a few lines to this name, the desire is simply to arrest the attention of any reader, who may be too closely engaged in temporal things; giving their strength to that which cannot profit, and not sufficiently pondering the passing nature of all terrestrial things. William Newsom had been extensively engaged in commerce through great part of his life, and there was reason to fear he was unduly absorbed by its cares and allurements: for the last year or more, he appeared to be becoming more sensible that disappointment was stamped upon his pursuits; his bodily health heretofore unbroken, began also to decline, and it was comfortingly believed by his friends, that this and other revolving circumstances, were tending to turn the energies of his mind from perishable, to imperishable objects. A few months before his decease, it became still more evident, that the hand of his heavenly Father was laid upon him in mercy; and on one occasion, he remarked, “that he saw nothing in the world worth living for, it abounded in trouble and disappointment, all outward things were stained in his eyes, there was nothing but religion that could be of any avail for any of us; and it mattered not when we were taken—young, old, or middle aged—if we were but ready, that was the great point!” His experience, however, during the last few days of his life shewed, that although the ground might have been prepared, the work was by no means effected; deep and sore conflict was then his portion, and oh! with what fervency did he call upon his Saviour, beseeching him in his mercy to be pleased to look down upon his poor unworthy creature, for he alone could help in that awful hour. Once he exclaimed, “what could all the world do for me now?” His wife, under great exercise of spirit, replied, “Nothing! the best, when laid upon such a bed as thou art, have nothing to look to or depend upon, but the mercy of the Saviour;” the poor sufferer earnestly pleaded that that mercy might be extended to him, remarking, “He has all power in heaven and in earth.” He then fervently prayed that the Lord would save his never dying soul. It is believed, that whilst his many sins of omission and commission were brought vividly before his view, by the unflattering witness, he was made very fully sensible that the great work of salvation rests between the soul of man and his Creator, and that “no man can redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him.” Through the night, he was mostly engaged in prayer, with uplifted hands invoking for mercy and forgiveness. Some time before his death, the great conflict of mind he had been under, appeared to subside, and to be succeeded by a sweet calm, and he intimated to his wife, that he felt comfortable and satisfied. Till within half an hour of the close, prayer continued flowing from his lips, the last audible sounds being an appeal to the Lord; and but a few minutes before he ceased to breathe, a conscious look at his dear wife, seemed to say, “all is peace;” and it was granted to her exercised spirit to believe, that the unshackled soul when released, was received into a mansion of rest, through the mercy and merits of his Lord and Saviour. In reference to that impressive hour this dear relative writes,—“Oh! how many times that solemn night, did I long that all the world could feel the great necessity, whilst in health and strength, so to live, as to be prepared for that awful hour, which sooner or later must come upon us all; it is a very dangerous thing to put off the work of the soul’s salvation to a deathbed, or to depend upon mercy being extended as at the eleventh hour, for it may not then be found.” Let us then be concerned to work whilst it is called to-day, and be ready to meet the awful summons,—“Steward give up thy stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward.” Susannah Nickalls , Ashford , Folkstone . Wife of Thomas Nickalls. 65 6mo. 1 1850 Mary Nicholson , Liverpool . 78 12mo. 14 1849 Mary Ostle , Newtown , Beckfoot , Cumberland . Widow of Thomas Ostle. 83 12mo. 18 1849 Hannah Palmer , Radway . Widow of William Palmer. 71 10mo. 17 1849 John Percy , Ballinagore , Ireland . Son of John and Anna Perry. 3 2mo. 1 1850 Richard Patching , Brighton . 70 2mo. 15 1850 Rachel Pattinson , Felling, near Newcastle-on-Tyne . Widow of Thomas Pattinson. 59 1mo. 5 1850 Sophia Gulielma Payne , Lambeth Walk , Surrey . Daughter of James and Ann Payne. 1 6mo. 7 1850 Elizabeth Pearson , Preston . Daughter of Daniel and Ann Pearson. 1 7mo. 6 1850 John Pegler , Mangersbury , near Stow , Warwickshire . 74 7mo. 6 1850 Isabella Peile , Carlisle . Wife of Thomas Peile. 45 8mo. 1 1850 Francis Edward Penney , Dorking . Died at Brighton. Son of the late Richard Penney. 22 7mo. 27 1850 Elizabeth Hall Pickard , Bushcliffe House , Wakefield . Wife of David Pickard. 35 10mo. 30 1849 Hartas Pickard , Bushcliffe House , Wakefield . Son of David and Elizabeth H. Pickard. 1 11mo. 26 1849 Elizabeth Pierson , Dublin . Daughter of Joseph Pierson. 25 2mo. 3 1850 Sarah Lydia N. Pike , Derryvale . 6 7mo. 27 1850 Hannah Lecky Pike , Derryvale . Children of the late James Nicholson and Sarah Pike. 3 9mo. 7 1850 Elizabeth Pim , Richmond Hill , Dublin . An Elder. Widow of Jonathan Pim. 63 2mo. 22 1850 Emily Pim , Mountmelick . 4 4mo. 5 1850 Frederick Pim , Mountmelick . Children of Samuel and Susanna Pim. 1 7mo. 31 1850 Elizabeth Plumley , Tottenham . 72 1mo. 10 1850 Sarah Preston , Earith , Hunts . An Elder. Widow of Samuel Preston. 79 4mo. 22 1850 John Prichard , Leominster . 86 5mo. 24 1850 Esther Prideaux , Plymouth . Widow of Philip C. Prideaux. 71 1mo. 8 1850 Jane Prideaux , Kingsbridge . The decease of this friend is recorded in the Annual Monitor of last year. We have since been furnished with the following notice of her. Our beloved friend, Jane Prideaux, died the 26th of the Second month, 1849, aged 87 years: for many years before her decease, she filled very acceptably the station of Elder, and therein approved herself a lowly follower of her Lord and Master. Very precious to her surviving friends, is the remembrance of her innocent, circumspect walk, holding out as it does in an impressive manner, the invitation, “Follow me as I have followed Christ.” During the latter years of her lengthened life, the fruits of her faith became increasingly prominent, and she was endeared to her friends and neighbours around her in no common degree. But it was during the last two months of her life, when under great bodily suffering, that her tongue was more fully set at liberty to declare the lovingkindness of the Lord, who in this season of trial was graciously pleased to lift up the light of his countenance upon her, and to grant a full evidence of acceptance with himself, enabling her to rejoice in the assurance that when her earthly house of this tabernacle should be dissolved, there would be granted to her “a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Her patient, cheerful endurance of bodily pain was striking and instructive; and in some seasons of closest conflict, her faith was strong, and her acknowledgment of the supporting power of God, full and fervent. She often said, the Lord was able to save and to deliver to the uttermost, and would deliver her , when patience had had its perfect work. Very impressive were her short petitions to the Father of mercies, for his support and deliverance, accompanied as they constantly were with the addition, “if consistent with thy will.” She remarked, “I am in the hands of an unerring Creator, He cannot err. We must not look to ourselves, but to our Saviour, who loved us and gave himself for us—even for me , the most unworthy of his creatures. He healeth all my diseases, and I have many, but my mercies outweigh them all.” Love and interest for her friends seemed often to dwell in her heart beyond the power of expression. Speaking of those who were members of the meeting to which she belonged, she sent messages to each, and made appropriate remarks respecting them individually, dwelling with especial comfort on the remembrance of those among them who were bearing the burden of the day, and labouring to promote their great Master’s cause. She afterwards said, whilst tears of tenderness flowed, “Oh! how many comfortable meetings I have had in that little meeting-house, how have I loved to go and sit there! It was not a little illness that kept me away: and how has it rejoiced my heart to see individuals come in, who have been as the anointed and sent!” On being told one morning that Friends were going to meeting, she said, “May they know the Sun of righteousness to arise as with healing in his wings;” emphatically adding, “I think they will.” At another time she sent messages of love to many of the members of her Monthly Meeting, adding with an expression of feeling, to which those around could not be insensible. “But I cannot name all; my love is universal; God is love.” One night, when in great pain, she acknowledged in grateful terms, the kindness of her attendants, and her belief that a blessing with a full recompense would be given them; and addressing one of them, she continued, “I love thee tenderly, and feel thee near in the best life—in the truth that is blessed for ever.” Afterwards, she broke forth with an audible voice thus: “Bless the Lord, oh my soul! and praise him for all his benefits. What can I do! how shall I praise him enough!” And then, as with melody of soul, she added,— “Heavenly blessings without number, Gently falling on my head.” After taking an affectionate farewell of those around her, and addressing them in an instructive and encouraging manner, she added, “I can heartily say, that death is robbed of its sting, and the grave of its victory. Thanks be unto God who giveth the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” And again, “Praise and magnify the Lord! Oh if I could sing, I would sing his praise!” To some beloved relatives, from a distance, who came to see her, she testified of her faith, hope, and confidence,—acknowledged, that although frail in body, she was strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might; and expressed her desire, that they might all meet where partings are not known, adding, “goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life; and there is a promise for the poor in spirit that will be fulfilled, ‘When the poor and needy seek water and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them.’” She was permitted to pass quietly away without any apparent pain, and is now, we reverently and thankfully believe, an inhabitant of that city “which hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it; for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” David Priestman , Gorton , Manchester . Son of Henry and Mary Priestman. 3 8mo. 1 1850 Rachel Proud , Scarborough . A Minister. 77 5mo. 4 1850 William Puckrin , near Whitby . 87 11mo. 27 1849 Ann Pugh , Tyddyn-y-gareg , North Wales . 90 6mo. 24 1850 Ann Pumphrey , Worcester . 84 4mo. 22 1850 Sarah Racey , Norwich . Widow of Thomas Racey. 72 11mo. 25 1850 James Ransome , Rushmere , Ipswich . 67 11mo. 22 1849 Anne Rawlinson , Newton-in-Cartmel . 45 12mo. 12 1849 Deborah Reynolds , Rochester . 76 5mo. 4 1850 Sarah Reynolds , Liverpool . 68 5mo. 19 1850 Susanna Reynolds , Oldswenford , Stourbridge . Wife of John Reynolds. 45 12mo. 28 1849 William Richards , Wellington . 73 12mo. 19 1849 Josiah Richardson , Peckham . 84 1mo. 8 1850 Helena Richardson , Belfast . Wife of John G. Richardson. 30 12mo. 7 1849 Hannah Rickerby , Burgh , near Carlisle . 50 7mo. 13 1850 Joseph Robinson , Stoke Newington Road , London . 72 7mo. 6 1850 William Robinson , Bellevile , near Dublin . 62 10mo. 26 1849 Frederick Robinson , Dublin . Son of Samuel S. and Charlotte Robinson. 16 12mo. 16 1849 Mary Robinson , Fleetwood . Widow of Isaac Robinson. 77 2mo. 8 1850 Jane Robinson , Whinfell Hall , Pardshaw . Wife of Wilson Robinson. 84 7mo. 15 1850 Rebecca Robinson , Tottenham . Wife of James Robinson. 56 10mo. 11 1849 Anne Robson , Sunderland . Wife of Thomas Robson. 65 3mo. 20 1850 Henry Robson , Huddersfield . Son of Thomas Robson. 51 8mo. 12 1850 Joseph Russell , Cork . 61 1mo. 14 1850 James Sansom , Tideford . An Elder. 73 10mo. 10 1849 Maria Scales , Nottingham . Daughter of Lydia Scales. 32 4mo. 16 1850 It often pleases our heavenly Father to carry forward the work of divine grace, in the hearts of his children, by means, and through dispensations, altogether unfathomable to the finite comprehension of men; but the humble believer, looking beyond the changing rugged path of this life, with filial love and confidence can repose on the mercy and goodness of the Lord, and believingly apply the language of our Saviour, “What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.” In very early life, the subject of the present brief notice was made sensible of the contriting influence of divine grace on her heart, so that many of her earliest recollections were fraught with love to her Saviour. For many years, she was subject to attacks of illness of a very trying character, in connection with which, she was brought as into the very furnace of affliction, and earnest were her prayers, that ‘patience might have her perfect work,’ and that through faith in the wisdom of her heavenly Father, she might become fully resigned to his holy will; and a sense of his supporting power and presence, were often mercifully granted to her, in times of severest suffering. Her last illness was short: two days previous to her decease, she remarked, “I have had an awful night,” but added, “my mind is calm and peaceful, I can now quite say, ‘Thy will be done;’” and to the remark, “His grace is sufficient for thee,” she replied, “Oh yes! and without that, we can do nothing; I cast all upon Him, and can say, I fully trust in His will, and in His power.” Joseph Sefton , Liverpool . 66 12mo. 15 1849 Sarah Sewell , Wereham , Norfolk . 85 11mo. 4 1849 George Shaw , Clonmel . 68 12mo. 22 1849 Susanna Sheppard , Mile End Road , Middlesex . 97 4mo. 16 1850 Betty Shipley , Derby . Widow of John Shipley, of Uttoxeter. 86 2mo. 3 1850 Margaret Sikes , Ashburton , Ireland . Wife of William Sikes. 48 5mo. 4 1850 Alice Sill , Kendal . 82 6mo. 1 1850 George Simpson , Birkenhead . 58 7mo. 5 1850 Susanna Smith , Drynah , Mountmelick . Widow of Humphry Smith. 80 11mo. 19 1849 Mary Smith , Darlington . 77 3mo. 2 1850 Abigail Smith , Preston . 70 5mo. 12 1850 Hannah Smith , Walton , Liverpool . Wife of Henry H. Smith. 58 1mo. 23 1850 Cassandra Smith , Birmingham . Died at Dover. 49 9mo. 27 1849 John Smith , Winchmorehill . 77 7mo. 11 1850 Elizabeth Snowden , Bradford . Daughter of John and Ann Snowden. 21 7mo. 21 1850 Mary Ann Sparkes , Exeter . 41 2mo. 3 1850 Eliza Cole Sparkes , Exeter . Daughter of Thomas and Esther Maria Sparkes. 1 4mo. 29 1850 Joseph Spence , York . An Elder. 75 9mo. 26 1850 Charles Spence , Darlington . Son of Charles and Hannah Spence. 6 12mo. 8 1849 Mary Spencer , South Lodge, Cockermouth . 69 6mo. 30 1850 William Squire , Stoke Newington . 59 3mo. 24 1850 Dorcas Squire , King’s Langley , Hempstead , Herts . 67 1mo. 9 1850 Catherine Dyke Stade , Aberavon , Glamorgan . Daughter of J. and R. D. Stade. 6 11mo. 26 1849 Susanna Staniland , Hull . 78 8mo. 26 1850 James Steevens , Basingstoke . 59 2mo. 25 1850 Mary Stretch , Nantwich . Widow of Richard Stretch. 80 3mo. 25 1850 Elizabeth Stretch , Finedon . Widow of Samuel Stretch, of Hortherton, Cheshire. 75 2mo. 27 1850 Sarah Tackaberry , Ballygunner , Waterford . Widow. 88 5mo. 12 1850 George North Tatham , Headingley , Leeds . 78 5mo. 19 1850 James Taylor , Heston , near Brentford . 79 2mo. 7 1850 Benjamin Thompson , Spring Hill , Lurgan . 77 3mo. 19 1850 Thomas Thomson , Dublin . Son of Benjamin and Sarah Thomson. 23 11mo. 21 1849 Philip H. L. Thornton , Sidcot . Son of William and Catherine Thornton. 22 6mo. 5 1850 The subject of this memoir was a native of Kingsbridge, Devonshire; and was educated among Friends. He was not by birth a member of our Society, but was received into membership a short time previous to his death. Having been adopted by his uncle, he was taken to Ireland, when about fourteen years of age, as an apprentice to one of the Provincial Schools, of which his uncle was the superintendent. Endowed with natural abilities well adapted for the acquisition of knowledge, and possessing a taste for various branches of literature and science,—gifted, too, with engaging manners and affability of disposition, he became, as he grew up, a general favourite amongst those with whom he associated, and his immediate relatives indulged in fond hopes of his becoming an honourable and useful charter. His best friends, however, were sometimes anxious on his account, lest the caresses of the world should turn aside his feet from the path of safety, and prevent that entire surrender of heart and life to the requirements of the gospel, which alone consists with true Christian discipleship, and affords a well-grounded expectation of real usefulness and permanent well-being. But he was open to receive the admonitions of his friends, and there is reason to believe that the voice of Christian counsel was instrumental to his good. He was never very robust; and his application to study, in addition to his stated duties, was, perhaps, not favourable to bodily vigour. Before the expiration of his apprenticeship, he became so enfeebled, as to cause his relations much anxiety; and as his uncle and aunt had withdrawn from the Institution, the Committee of the School kindly acceded to their proposal to remove him to their own house. Here he soon rallied; and in the summer, of 1848, applied for the situation of teacher of Sidcot School. He entered upon the duties of the station with earnestness and zeal; and the notice and encouragement which he there received, tended both to render his occupation a delight, and to draw forth the more hidden depths of his character. His heart was in his work, and the field of labour particularly congenial to his taste. A few months, however, sufficed to bring on a return of delicacy, and rendered it advisable that he should retire for a while from active duty; but the following year, apparently with renovated powers, he again resumed his post. For a while, he appeared to think that his health was becoming confirmed; but about the commencement of another year, he was rapidly brought low, and nearly disqualified for the performance of his school duties. He was however retained in his office, with delicate attention to his known wishes, until in the 4th month, 1850, he was obliged to withdraw, and again make his uncle’s house at Mountmelick his home. The following extracts from letters and memoranda written previous to his leaving Sidcot, show the state of his mind at that period. 2nd mo. 10th. “I often feel,—oftener than ever, that the thread of life is in me weak,—very weak; and, oh! I am sometimes almost overwhelmed with the retrospects, and prospects, this feeling opens to my view. I feel that I have been pursuing false jewels, sometimes those which have no appearance even of external brilliance, and the Pearl has escaped my notice. I have, I believe, earnestly desired that I may be enabled to see the true and real beauty of the Pearl, and its inestimable value, in such a light, that nothing may again warp my attention from it.” 2nd mo. 23rd, 1850. “My weakness of body, and frequent illnesses, have brought before my mind the great uncertainty of my continuing long in this scene of probation. I feel that I have lived hitherto ‘without God in the world,’ plunged in sin and darkness; that my sins are a greater burden than I can bear; and unless my all merciful God and Father, through his dear Son, forgive them, and relieve me from them, I fear they will draw me with them to the lowest grave.” “I believe my heart’s desire is, to walk in the narrow way,—to be the Lord’s on his own terms, and to be humbled even in the dust. The evil one suggests, that I can never be forgiven, and fills my soul with doubts and fears; but, oh Lord! thou hast said, ‘He that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.’” 2nd mo. 24th. “Strong desires are in my heart, that I may be favoured with an assurance of forgiveness; but, oh! I fear that my repentance is not sincere, that the pride of the world still holds place in my heart. Oh Lord! I pray thee that thou wilt use thy sharp threshing instrument, and break in pieces all that is at variance with thy holy will.” “This is First-day. Be pleased to keep the door of my lips, Oh Father! and reign absolutely in my thoughts; grant that meeting may be a time of favour and visitation, and that I may be enabled to wait patiently for thee. Oh! that I could keep the world from pouring on me as a flood, at such times: Thou, gracious Father, canst enable me to do this.” 3rd mo. 1st. “Struggles seem to be my portion, in which the world, the flesh, and the devil often seem likely to get the victory. Lord, grant through the blessed Saviour, that if I have found the good part, nothing may be permitted to take it from me. I greatly desire an increase of faith. Alas! I feel the little I have fail sometimes.” 6th. “Oh! that none of the Lord’s intentions respecting me, may be frustrated by my disobedience and unwatchfulness. Oh! I feel that I am indolent and very lukewarm, if not cold altogether, in attending to my soul’s salvation, and in doing all for the Lord’s glory. Thou knowest, oh Lord! that I am very weak in body; but, oh! grant that I may not make that a cover for indolence and lukewarmness. Thou hast known my peculiar trials, and I thank thee that thou hast, through the dear Lamb, granted me strength to bear them.” After his return to Mountmelick, this dear youth lived seven weeks, and during this time his company was most sweet and instructive; the tenor of his conduct and conversation being beautifully regulated by the influence of the divine Spirit, bringing, in great measure, as there was reason to believe, every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ; and the composure and serenity of his countenance, clearly indicated the sweet peace which pervaded his mind. About the end of Fifth Month, it became evident that the final change was drawing near. This he was enabled to look to without dismay; saying, when a fear was expressed that he could not continue long: “I cannot say that I have any fear.” On the night of the 2nd of 6th Month, he said: “I wish I could feel a stronger assurance of acceptance with the Almighty;” and afterwards he requested to have the 23rd Psalm read to him. The next morning, sitting up in his bed, he remarked: “There remaineth a rest for the people of God;” and, after a pause, “I want more of that faith, of which I fear I possess so little; and yet, when I have asked for what was proper and needful for me, it has not been denied. I desire to be enabled to pass through the valley of humiliation, without much conflict; and then comes the valley of the shadow of death:—only a shadow! the finger of God will guide safe through, all those who put their trust in him: ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’ The rod to chasten, the staff to support! Oh! all that is of the world, and all that is in it, are worthless in my sight. If the Lord has any work for me to do on earth, I trust I am willing to do it; but if not, I have no wish to stay.” In the afternoon, the beloved invalid broke forth with the following expressions: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want;” emphatically adding, “What a very precious promise!” and, after a short pause,—“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow, though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,” remarking, “and this was under the old dispensation. Oh! I hope my sins are gone beforehand to judgment; but there seem to be so many fresh sins, I have so much time that I do not improve as I ought; but the poor weak body and this weak mind too!” On its being remarked, that we did not serve a hard master, he seemed comforted, and continued, “Oh! that I could see the pearl gates; but I fear I have not faith enough, nor love enough to love Him perfectly who first loved me, and died for me, yes! even for me ! Oh! I desire to throw myself at his feet; how I wish I could love him better, and serve him more.” The whole of Fourth-day he seemed fast sinking, and calmly spoke of death as very near. He craved for patience, again and again, making use of many sweet expressions as his end drew near. “O Jesus! sweet Jesus, come!” and placing his hands together, supplicated thus: “Oh, dear Lord! if it be thy will, be pleased to take me, for the sake of thy dear Son.” And, again, “Thy will be done.” He remarked, “I believe I am passing through the dark valley of the shadow of death;” and on the hope being expressed that he would be supported through, he responded, “Through mercy!” Soon after this, he sank into a quiet sleep, which lasted some hours; and, shortly after waking, the unfettered spirit took its flight so gently, as scarcely to be perceptible to those around. Frances Henshawe Thorpe , Overbury , Tewkesbury . Widow of Thomas Thorpe. 65 10mo. 5 1849 William Todhunter , Dublin . 46 1mo. 19 1850 Susanna Todhunter , Dublin . Widow of John Todhunter. 74 2mo. 2 1850 Susanna Todhunter , Dublin . Daughter of Thomas H. and Hannah Todhunter. 1 8mo. 30 1850 Catherine Toms , Amersham . 67 1mo. 8 1850 Alexander Townsend , Rathrush , Kilconnor . 70 12mo. 7 1849 Croudson Tunstall , Alvaston Grove , Nantwich . An Elder. 68 11mo. 17 1849 Dedication to the cause of truth, marked the character of our dear friend; and divine grace wrought effectually in him—breaking the obstructions of the natural mind—smoothing the rugged path of life, and enabling him to rejoice in the mercy which followed him, and which was his support through many tribulations. It was his earnest desire to know in himself a growth in the truth, and to have his building firm on the Rock of ages. His diligence in the support of our meetings for worship and discipline, and the reverent frame of his spirit in these meetings, was animating and exemplary to his friends, as was also his daily circumspect walk. The chastenings of divine love produced profitable experience, and being accepted by him, with humble gratitude and prayerful submission, his heart was enriched by spiritual blessings. When near the confines of time, and the power of utterance nearly gone, he was reminded by a friend of the faithfulness and tender mercy of our Saviour, when he emphatically replied,—“ That is my only comfort.” Thus under the rapid decay of the outward man, he possessed a peaceful mind, in that blessed hope which had been in his day, as the anchor to his soul—“sure and steadfast.” Thomas Waddington , Penketh . 49 9mo. 3 1850 John Waithman , Yealand . 49 11mo. 2 1849 Maria Walker , Wooldale , Yorkshire . Daughter of Samuel Walker. 24 10mo. 18 1849 Hannah Walker , Dirtcar , Wakefield . Wife of Robert Walker. 68 4mo. 3 1850 Barbara Waller , York . 70 11mo. 13 1849 The quiet acquiescence of this dear friend, in the divine will, under changes of circumstances involving, to her energetic and lively mind, much suffering, appeared to many of her immediate friends, deeply instructive. In early life, she was, for several years, resident in the family of her brother Stephen Waller, at Clapton; and during the long continued illness of his wife, took charge of the family, including an interesting group of young children, between whom and herself the tenderest affection subsisted. On the restoration of her sister’s health, she came to reside with her brother Robert Waller, of York. In the First month, 1829, at the solicitation of the committee, she consented to undertake, for a time, the domestic care of the Boys’ School, then first established by York Quarterly Meeting, in that city. Though in delicate health, and with a voice which she could rarely raise above a whisper, she soon became so warmly interested in the institution, as to prevent the necessity for further inquiry for a female head. Her active and executive mind, found here a large field of usefulness, which she well occupied. Her kind interest in the institution, the scholars and the officers, increased from year to year. Her ability in providing for and securing the comfort of all around her, always conspicuous, was eminently so in times of sickness, whether of more or less severity. On these occasions, besides her power of skilfully ministering to physical comforts, her quiet spirit, knowing where she herself had sought and found consolation, could direct others to the same unfailing Source. At the close of the year 1836, in consequence of the decease of her sister Hannah, the wife of Robert Waller, she was called from the scene of her arduous, yet to her, pleasant labours; the beneficial results of which were, the establishment of orderly arrangement, and plans of domestic comfort, essential to the well-being of a school. She remained with her brother at Holdgate, till the time of his second marriage, when change was again her allotment. After a short absence from York she finally settled there. Her declining health rendered repose needful, although the liveliness of her spirits enabled her greatly to enjoy frequent intercourse with her friends;—and the school, the scene of her former labours, was an object of continued affectionate interest. In recording these few incidents, which we well know, of themselves, are of little importance, perhaps entirely insignificant to the general reader, we believe, nevertheless, that a useful lesson may be conveyed. The path of our dear friend was, remarkably, not one of her own choosing; most of the changes of place and circumstance which she experienced, involved much that was painful; yet under all, the quiet, peaceful, thankful resignation which she was enabled to attain, shewed where her hopes were anchored, and proved the power of divine grace to make hard things easy. For many months previous to her decease, she was confined to her couch, and latterly to her bed. During this period, she bore with unrepining patience, much bodily suffering; but her cheerful and energetic mind still retained its characteristic vigour. In this, her last illness, the kind attentions, and tender cares, which she had so often ministered to others, were abundantly repaid to herself. In addition to the assiduous and faithful services of the family with whom she had taken up her abode, and who became warmly attached to her, she had for many weeks previous to her decease, the tenderest attention of one of her affectionate nieces, of whose infant years she had been the watchful guardian. A friend who frequently visited her on her bed of suffering, says, “In some of my last visits to her, her expression of firm and loving reliance upon the Lord, whose support she had been wont to seek in the time of health, as well as in that of suffering, was a sweet testimony to the blessedness of having made him her portion. She told me how comforted she had been under great bodily weakness, when she felt unable definitely to put up her petitions, in the lively remembrance that she had a never-failing Advocate with the Father, touched with a feeling of her infirmities, ever living to make intercession for her. ‘Oh!’ she remarked, ‘the sense of it has been precious to me.’” Thus peace and thankfulness were the frequent clothing of her spirit, till her earthly house of this tabernacle was quietly dissolved, and exchanged, we reverently believe, for ‘a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’ Alice Waller , The Howe , Halsted . Widow of Robert Waller, of York. 76 6mo. 25 1850 Of the childhood of our friend we know but little. Her parents were members of our religious Society, and brought up their children in conformity with its practices. She was, at rather an early age, placed at the school for girls at York, which had, at that time, some peculiar advantages in regard to the religious and moral care of the pupils. But from this enclosure she was soon recalled, to be the companion of her invalid mother; and at the early age of sixteen, when her beloved parent was removed by death, she took the charge of her father’s domestic concerns, and resided with him till her marriage with Benjamin Horner of York. Although the shortness of the period she remained at school, might be disadvantageous to her in several respects, yet it is highly probable that, in her mother’s sick chamber, some impressions were made, and lessons learned, which were as seeds sown to bring forth fruit in a future day. Her husband’s circle of acquaintance was an extensive, and, in its character, a much varied one; and, for some years, Alice Horner mingled much in gay society, occasionally frequenting with her husband places of amusement, especially those in which music formed the chief attraction. But during this period, in which she may be said to have lived to herself, she was not without compunctuous visitations; and as the responsibilities of a mother came upon her, she increasingly felt the seriousness of life, and the duty, as well as the privilege, of living to God, and being enabled to look unto Him as a Father and a Friend. These feelings appear to have gradually gained ascendancy in her mind, and her prevalent desire became, to be a Christian upon Christ’s own terms. She felt herself as one who had been forgiven much, and therefore loved much,—striving to be no more conformed to this world, but transformed by the renewing of her mind. Her conscience became not only enlightened, but tender; and yielding to what she believed to be her duty to God, she not only refrained from all the public amusements in which she had formerly taken pleasure, but acted in her associations with others, consistently with her views as a Friend. If in this strait path; walking much alone and inexperienced in the way: she sometimes erred, we believe it was rather on the side of decision, than on that of undue yielding. She seemed to live under a sense of that saying of the apostle, “Whatsoever is not of faith is sin.” And whilst the course which she pursued could not fail to restrict, in some degree, her intercourse with the world, those with whom she still associated, (and her circle continued to be a wide one,) appeared in general to estimate her motives; and many of them entertained an increased love and respect for her character; and He who, above all things, she desired to serve, was pleased abundantly to comfort and strengthen her in all her trials. The death of her only daughter, at the age of nineteen, as well as that of her husband after a short illness, a few years subsequently, were close trials to her; but she bowed in humble submission to these dispensations, and, under the chastening hand of the Lord, it became increasingly evident, that the “one thing needful” was steadily kept in her view. She was diligent in her attendance of our religious meetings, and often remarked, that she had been permitted to find in them “a resting place to her soul.” After her second marriage, with Robert Waller of Holdgate near York, her health, which for a long time had not been strong, began more rapidly to decline, and at the death of her husband, after a long and protracted illness, she was so complete an invalid, as to be chiefly confined to her bed for many months together. This was a great trial upon her faith and patience; but her hope and trust in her Saviour’s love never forsook her, and often through her long illness, she was enabled to look forward with hope and joy to that time, when “absent from the body,” she should be “present with the Lord.” Six months after her husband’s death, she was removed, in an invalid carriage, to the residence of her eldest son in Essex, whose house continued to be her home the remainder of her days. In writing to a much beloved friend, from this quiet retreat soon after her arrival, she remarks,—“Every comfort and every indulgence is allotted to me by my attentive children. Oh what boundless demands upon my gratitude are thus poured forth. I would gladly hope not without a heartfelt acknowledgment to that Almighty Giver, who is the author of all our manifold mercies. For all things I reverently thank my God and Saviour, remembering you my dear friends, whom I have left, with the truest affection.” To the same friend, who herself was suffering from illness, she again writes, “Oh, dearest ---, how many of His dear children does the Lord keep long in the furnace, yet if he do but grant his presence there, and watch over the refining process he designs to be accomplished, there ought to be no complaining either of the length of time, or the severity of the operation, but through all, the full fruits of resignation should be brought forth in perfection, to his praise, and his glory. That so it may be, my dear friend, forms a wish on my own account as well as on thine, day by day. The time has appeared long to me, that I have been required to lay under the rod, but when we measure time as did the Apostle of old, and think of it as a vapour that quickly passeth away, or as a shadow that abideth not, we see that it is but for a little moment that our chastening can endure. I cannot forbear beholding my day as far spent; but I do rejoice to see heaven as a place of rest for me,—yes, even for me! through the blood shed for my sins on Calvary’s Mount. This mercy in Christ Jesus, how precious it is to dwell upon.” Alice Waller loved the company of all those that loved the Lord Jesus, and especially the messengers of the gospel were acceptable to her. On one occasion when receiving a visit from a friend, whilst laid upon her bed of suffering, she, in great contrition, expressed her sense of her heavenly Father’s love and mercy to her , a poor creature, adding, “I feel bound to tell of His marvellous goodness to me, even to me, by night and by day upon my bed, in seasons of trial I have been comforted by my Saviour’s presence.” In the beginning of the Sixth Month, 1850, she became more poorly, and both herself and her children were impressed with the belief that her end was drawing near; on the 15th she passed a very trying day, but in the evening revived a little and spoke most sweetly of the fulness and clearness of her hope, and her perfect confidence in the love and mercy of her God, extended to her for the sake of her beloved Saviour; she was full of sweetness and affection to all around her, her heart overflowing with gratitude to God and man. “Dear Hannah C. Backhouse,” she remarked, “visited me a short time before I came here, and she said, ‘I believe Jesus has thrown his arm of everlasting love around thee, and is drawing thee nearer and nearer to himself, and he will draw thee nearer and nearer, till at last He will press thee into his bosom.’ It was a sweet message; I have often thought upon it since, and I now feel such close union of spirit with God, that I cannot doubt it is even so.” On the passage of Scripture being repeated, “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him,” she added, “yes, and preserveth them.—‘This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and delivered him from all his troubles.’ The fear of the Lord has been my support for many years past.” And on being reminded of that verse of Scripture, “Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,” she said, “He has been my staff and my rod in the dark valley of death, keeping my head above the waters, and he has given me hope full of immortality,—full of immortality! and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever; I humbly trust that such will be my portion.” She then remarked “It is just a week to-day since I began to be so very ill;—strange conflict of the body, with the mind so perfectly tranquil, in strong confirmation of the blessed promise, ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee.’—I have often thought I heard the song of Moses and of the Lamb, as I lay here in deep exhaustion.” At another time she remarked, “I have often sinned, and erred much, but I have One in heaven that pleadeth for me.” She hailed with much joy the arrival of a beloved friend, and spoke of the event as filling up the only remaining desire she had on earth; their meeting was a season of mutual love and thanksgiving to the Lord. On Second day, the 24th, she said, “I am so loosed from every thing below, as I could not have believed;” and in the evening expressed that she was so filled with thankfulness her heart was overflowing! She intimated her belief, when her room was made ready for the night, that it would be the last she should have to pass, and the next morning it became evident that she was rapidly sinking. It was said to her that it was a long and trying travel, but she was near to a better land! when she quickly responded, “Yes, Emanuel’s land:” and on its being remarked, “The crown is nearly won;” she emphatically replied, “Oh, I wish it were on!” A short time after this, her redeemed spirit was gently liberated from the shackles of mortality, to be, we humbly believe, “for ever with the Lord.” Fanny Martin Waller , Guildford . Daughter of the late Thomas Waller. 30 12mo. 14 1849 Edward Wallis , Melksham . Son of Abraham Wallis, of London. 26 3mo. 6 1850 John Walton , Southport . 61 1mo. 7 1850 Alfred Watkins , Eydon , Northamptonshire . Son of John and Susanna Watkins. 16 4mo. 22 1850 Jane Watson , Allonby , Cumberland . 85 10mo. 20 1849 Fergus Watson , Allonby . 90 1mo. 21 1850 Ann Watson , Heworth , Newcastle-on-Tyne . Wife of John Watson. 72 12mo. 6 1849 Mary Watson , Cockermouth . 64 10mo 18 1849 Lucy Bell Westwood , Brampton , Hunts . Daughter of John and Elizabeth Westwood. 17 3mo. 19 1850 Joseph Wheeler , Birmingham . 81 11mo. 21 1849 Thomas White , Ratcliff , London . 80 3mo. 7 1850 Jane White , Chesham , Bucks . 41 1mo. 2 1850 Maria Bella White , Henley-on-Thames . Widow of Gabriel G. White. 84 8mo. 17 1850 Anne Whitfield , near Coothill , Ireland . 85 3mo. 12 1850 Richard Whiting , Tottenham . 84 7mo. 3 1850 Anne Whitten , Roscrea , Ireland . Widow. 72 3mo. 24 1850 Maudlin Wickett , Darlington . Widow of Benjamin Wickett. 94 11mo. 15 1849 William Williams , Denbigh , Cheshire . 70 11mo. 2 1849 William Wilson , Bradford . 82 11mo. 23 1849 The following account has much of it been taken from a brief memoir of William Wilson, which appeared in the “Bradford Observer,” and which has since been published as a tract. William Wilson might truly be said to be “an Israelite indeed, in whom there was no guile.” He had his peculiarities of character, but with all, was singularly good , and we cannot doubt that his prayers and his alms, had come up for a memorial before Him, who seeth in secret. At the age of fifty, with an ample fortune, he relinquished a business, in which he had most diligently laboured, when the full tide of prosperity was flowing in upon him, in order that he might devote his time, and the means placed by Providence at his disposal, to the cause of neglected and suffering humanity. For more than thirty years it became the essential and exclusive employment of his life, to explore and to relieve cases of poverty and distress, and in the accomplishment of this undertaking, he employed the same assiduity and care, which he had been wont to exercise in the management of his secular calling, distributing many times at the rate of a thousand pounds a year. As a steward of the gifts of God, he carefully invested his money so as to secure a fair rate of interest, and on no occasion did he relax from the utmost exactness in his monetary dealings; and yet it is believed that his personal and domestic expenditure never reached £150. per annum. His house, like his person, was a pattern of plainness and simplicity. His furniture consisted of nothing fashionable or superfluous; and his table was equally marked by comfort and frugality. He was a warm advocate in the cause of Temperance, and was deeply interested in the subject of “the prevention of Cruelty to Animals.” Of Tracts, he must have paid for, and circulated gratuitously, some millions! His whole time and energies were fully employed, and often heavily taxed, in devising and carrying out schemes of mercy and benevolence, and his life presented one uniform tenor of consistent piety. To strangers he might appear reserved, but his apparent reserve only resulted from his constitutional modesty, and retiring habits, whilst to those who enjoyed his friendship, he was frank, open, and intelligent in no ordinary degree. William Wilson was never robust, but toward the close of his life, his feebleness became more apparent; for more than a week he was confined to his bed, but without any urgent symptom of disease. His mind was calm and peaceful,—he knew and loved his Saviour, and through His mediation, we cannot doubt he has inherited the blessing to the pure in heart, leaving behind him, in many respects, an example worthy to be followed, practically bearing a noble testimony to “christian moderation and temperance in all things,” and against that covetousness which is idolatry. The memory of such a man is blessed. Elizabeth Wilson , Rawden . 69 4mo. 12 1850 Mary Wilson , Kendal . Widow. 60 1mo. 31 1850 James Wilson , Elm Farm , Liverpool . 76 10mo. 31 1849 Elizabeth Wood , Chelmsford . 68 1mo. 17 1850 Jane Wood , Highflatts . Wife of John Wood. 28 4mo. 4 1850 Francis Wright , Kettering . 76 5mo. 13 1850 Thomas Wright , Cork . 61 10mo. 9 1849 Many, both within the limits of our own Society and out of it, can bear testimony to the integrity, benevolence, and Christian deportment of this dear friend. In his transactions with his fellow-men, he was particularly careful not to over-reach, or to avail himself of advantages subversive to their interests; and in the social circle, as well as among the poor, his kindness of disposition was conspicuous. During the scarcity of provision in Ireland, his liberality was great, and his exertions on behalf of the destitute almost unremitting. His illness commenced in the early part of the 9th month, 1849, and on finding that the complaint did not yield to remedies, he expressed his earnest desire for resignation to the divine will, remarking, that whatever might be the termination, he believed “all would be well.” He intimated, that he had not been one who could give much expression to his religious feelings, but that for many years his mind had been daily exercised before the Lord on his own behalf, as well as on that of his family. The prosperity of our religious Society lay very near to his heart, and he expressed his earnest desire for its preservation in “humility and simplicity.” The patience with which he bore the debility attendant upon his complaint was remarkable; His mind expanded in love to his family, his friends, and to all the world, repeating emphatically, “I love them all.” He frequently spoke of his willingness to depart; and as his illness advanced, there appeared an increasing sweetness and solemnity in his manner, and he mostly addressed those about him in terms of affection, expressing his thankfulness for their attention, and desiring that the Lord would strengthen them. On a hope being expressed that his mind was peaceful, he replied, “Yes, quite so.” He took an affectionate leave of his wife and those around him; after which nature rapidly sank, and he quietly, and it is humbly believed, peacefully expired. Eliza Wright , Sutton , Cambridgeshire . Daughter of Thomas and Mary Wright. 7 9mo. 8 1850 Thomas Weight , Sutton . 49 9mo. 16 1850 Henry Wright , Middlesboro . 30 9mo. 10 1849 John Fuller Youell , Yarmouth . 28 12mo. 1 1849 INFANTS whose names are not inserted. Under one month . . . Boys 1 . . . Girls 1 From one to three months . . . do. 2 . . . do. 3 From three to six months . . . do. 1 . . . do. 3 From six to twelve months . . . do. 1 . . . do. 1 HANNAH CHAPMAN BACKHOUSE. Died 6 th of 5 th month , 1850. Hannah Chapman Backhouse was the daughter of Joseph and Jane Gurney; she was born at Norwich the 9th of 2nd Month, 1787. Of her very early life she has left but little record. She disliked study, and was fond of boyish sports, until about the age of thirteen, when she began to feel enjoyment in reading. Possessed of a naturally powerful and energetic mind, with talents of a very superior order, she soon began to take great delight in study, and was ambitious to excel in every thing that she undertook. Drawing she pursued with intense eagerness, and in this and other acquirements, she made great proficiency. Until about the age of seventeen, her highest enjoyment was derived from the cultivation of the intellectual powers, and in the endeavour to raise these to their highest perfection, she imagined the greatest happiness to consist. In her journal she writes:—“My thoughts have been this week, one continued castle in the air of being an artist; the only reality they were built on, was my having painted in oils better than I thought I could, and a feeling that I shall in a little time succeed, and an unbounded ambition to do so. I have had many arguments with myself, to know if it would be right. I think it would, if I could make good use of it.” But gradually she found that no object which had this world for its limit, could satisfy the cravings of an immortal soul. She began to feel that she was formed for higher purposes than the gratification of self in its most refined and plausible form, and in 1806, we note the gradual unfolding of that change of view, which through the operation of the Holy Spirit, led her to the unreserved surrender of her whole being to the service of her Lord;—a surrender that in so remarkable a manner marked her unwavering path through the remaining portion of her dedicated life. Speaking of this period, after her first attendance of the Yearly Meeting, she says,— July, 1806. “This time, for almost the first in my life, I seem come to a stand in the objects of my darling pursuits, which I may say have been almost entirely the pursuit of pleasure, through the medium of the understanding. This I feel must be a useless search, for the further I go, the more unattainable is the contentment which I hoped a degree of excellence might have produced;—the further I go, the further does my idea of perfection extend; therefore this way of attaining happiness I find is impossible. Never in my life was I so sensible of the real weakness of man, though to all appearance so strong; for I am persuaded that it is almost impossible to conduct oneself through this world, without being sincerely religious. The human mind must have an object, and let that object be the attainment of eternal happiness. * * * After such considerations, can I be so weak as not to make religion my only pursuit? That which will, I believe, bring my mind into beautiful order, and, rendering all worldly objects subservient to its use, harmonize the whole, and fit it to bear fruit to all eternity, and the fruit of righteousness is peace. I have felt my mind very much softened of late, and more and more see the beauty of holiness, but all the progress I can say that I have made towards it, is in loving it more;—yet I feel I have a great way to go before my heart is entirely given up.” Feb. 9th, 1807. “To-day I am twenty; let me endeavour to describe with sincerity what twenty years have effected upon me; how difficult self-love and blindness make answering the questions, What am I? How far am I advanced in the great end of being, the making such use of my time here, that it may bear fruit when time with me is over? When I look upon myself with the greatest seriousness, how ill do I think of myself! I see myself endowed with powers, which I often, (I hope, with a pure and unfeigned heart,) wish may be applied aright. But in my mind, what strong ‘bulls of Bashan’ compass me about! What I fear most, and that which sometimes comes upon me most awfully, is, that my will is not properly brought into subjection. * * * Often when clothed with something of heavenly love, do I feel that I had rather be a door-keeper in the house of my God, than dwell in king’s palaces, but I fear the general tendency of my pursuits would make me more fit for the latter than the former. What I want and do most sincerely wish for, is, that I may be truly humble, and that where pride now reigns, humility may prevail; and where ambition, contentment.” In 1808, the death of a favourite first cousin appears to have been the means of greatly deepening her serious impressions, and of increasing the desire to “relieve herself,” as she expresses it, “from the miserable state of inconsistency in which a gay Friend is situated.” A short time subsequent to this period, she writes:— May, 1808. “With my father and mother I left the Grove this morning, with a mind much softened, though not afflicted by parting with those I love, earnestly wishing that what I was going to attend,—the Yearly Meeting, might stamp more deeply the impressions I had received. We reached Epping that night. I felt very serious; Love seemed to have smitten me, and under that banner, I earnestly hoped that I might be enabled to partake of whatever might be set before me in the banqueting house. I saw that it would be right for me to say thee , and thou , to everybody, and I begged that I might be so kept in love as to be enabled to do it,—that love might draw me, not fear terrify me.” “How deeply I felt to enjoy First-day, and was strengthened at meeting. For the first time, to-day I called the days of the week numerically, on principle, it cost me at first a blush. This day has afforded me deeper and sweeter feelings than any I have yet passed; surprise and ridicule I have felt to be useful!” “Left Bury Hill early: I can look back to the time I have spent here as the happiest in my life; and I have earnestly wished that my example and influence in future life, may be useful to those whom, never before my mind was so altered, did I love with so sweet or so great an affection.” After alluding to some further change, she writes; “I felt increasingly the weight of advocating the cause I have engaged in; oh! may no word or action of mine, stain the character I am assuming, and may no self-exaltation be the consequence: the mind, I feel, must be kept deep indeed, to avoid the rocks that do every where surround.” 6th Month, 1808. “Went to meeting—thought that by observing the commandment, and confessing Christ before men, we should only be showing the beautiful effect of obedience, in the fruit of the Spirit it produces,—that it does not consist in speech, dress, or behaviour, but that by being obedient in these and all things, to the law written in our hearts; we should be overshadowed by that sweetness and quietness of spirit, the fruits of which would prove whose government we are under.” 7th Month, 1808, Cromer. “Walked on the shore, the sky was illuminated by the setting sun the scene was of nature’s greatest beauty, I could not speak, but it was not the effect of the scene. Such scenes in which I used to revel, have lost much of their influence in the inferior peace they bring, to that which a few small sacrifices, the effect of obedience, produce.” Grove, 11th Month, 1808. “Patience tried, and censoriousness of mind and some words allowed to have too much dominion. The higher we rise, the more we feel the foibles of others; and then the more need have we of the spirit of love and charity, to be patient with them; and if we are not, it is not excellence, but only the sight of it we have gained.” 12th Month, 1808. “I fear I have not sufficiently this week, wrestled for the blessing of peace. I am sensible of having the power of pleasing, of having stronger natural powers and more acquirements than most women,—I am conscious too, of having with all my might, sought that which is highest, and that my heart has been made willing to sacrifice all for the attainment of it, and wonders have I already known; if I do not now diligently seek that which can make me feelingly ascribe all the glory, where alone it is due, fruitless must all my talents be, and great my fall.” 12th Month, 12th, 1808. “--- came, the conversation in the evening, softened my heart in the deduction I drew from it, of what a prize was our possession,—how anchorless the world seemed to be,—and I loved dear Friends!” 2nd Month, 9th, 1809. “Twenty-two years old. Through the mercy of everlasting kindness, great is the change that this year has wrought in me; the power of Love has enticed me to begin that spiritual journey which leads to the promised land: I have left, by His guidance and strength, the bondage of Egypt, and have seen His wonders in the deep. May the endeavour of my life be, to keep close to that Angel, who can deliver us through the trials and dangers of the wilderness of this world. I have not studied much this year, yet I have almost every day read a little, and never was my sight so clear into the intellectual world. The works of the head may, I believe, usefully occupy such portions of time as are not necessary for discharging our relationship in society. * * * But above all things be humble, which a love of all perfection is, I believe, not only consistent with, but the root of.” In 1811, Hannah C. Gurney married Jonathan Backhouse, and settled at Darlington. The early years of her married life appear to have been much devoted to her young family. For a time, her journal was entirely suspended; but in 1815 she writes: “These last four years, are perhaps best left in that situation, in which spiritual darkness has in a great measure involved them; it may be the sweet and new objects of external love, and necessary attention in which I have been engaged, have too much drawn my mind from internal watchfulness, after the first flow of spiritual joy began to subside; or it has been the will of the Author of all blessing to change the dispensation, and taking from me the light of his love, in which all beauty so easily and naturally exists, to teach me indeed, that the glory of all good belongs to Him alone, and that He is jealous of our decking ourselves with His jewels.” In 1820, she first spoke as a minister, in reference to which she writes: 3rd Month, 1820, “Had felt for some time, and particularly lately, a warm concern for the interest of our family, which to my humiliation, surprise, and consolation, I was strengthened to express to them in a private opportunity, before I left Sunderland. On our ride home, I felt the candle of the Lord shine round about me, in a manner I had not done for years, accompanied with much tenderness and some foreboding fears. I felt I had put my hand to the plough, and I must not turn back, but I remembered the days that were past, and I knew something of the power of Him in whom I had believed; though fear often compassed me about, and too much imagination.” 1820. “My heart has burned as an oven, internal and external supplication has not been wanting to ease it; may I endure the burnings as I ought.” Speaking of attending the Yearly Meeting soon after, she says: “I saw many dangerous enemies of my own heart near me, yet was there mercifully preserved a germ of truth, in which met the hearts of the faithful, and which was an encouragement to me; I afterwards spoke twice in the Yearly Meeting, and the composure at the moment, and after a time the peace that ensued, seemed to assure me that I had not run without being sent. The remembrance of former days came strongly before me, and in thus again publicly manifesting the intent of my heart, I felt the comfort of being no stranger to that Hand, which, as it once fed me with milk, seemed to me now after a long night season, feeding me with meat.”