called a helmeted eyelid, and a beautiful and serenely arched eyebrow, which contributed to the devout and tranquil expression, whilst her dark intelligent eyes, her well developed eyebone, and beautifully formed nose, indicated at once strength and acuteness of intelligence, and great delicacy of

taste.

Her costume was that of the strictest Friends of that day. How well, I remember, her coarse stuff gown contrasted with the exquisite beauty and delicacy of her hands and arms, her snow-white handkerchief, and her little grey shawl; her dark-brown hair divided after the manner of Gothic arch over her fair forehead. Then she wore a black silk hood over her cap, and over all a black beaver bonnet, in the shape of a pewter plate, which was then esteemed the official dress of the gallery.* Her voice was most musical and enchanting: as clearness and brilliance was the characteristic of my mother's voice, so sweetness and flexibility was that of my cousin's. My mother's words delighted and animated the mind, my cousin's descended like dew on the soul, penetrating and abiding there, and after many days bringing forth fruit. It was a common observation with those who cursorily saw her, that she wanted but wings to be an angel. Such was my cousin ;

*The gallery is the particular seat which is generally occupied by acknowledged ministers amongst the Society of Friends.

her visit to us was made under peculiar circumstances.

I know not if I mentioned that my cousins, Christiana and Priscilla, were the daughters of my aunt, Lady Watson, by her first husband, Mr. Gurney. They were then nominally Friends, though not strict ones.

My uncle Watson was in the habit of spending the winter in town, the summer at Seagrove, and the spring and autumn were generally passed at the Crescent in Bath. This city was distinguished at that time for its religious and literary society. Amongst the most prominent were Mr., afterwards the celebrated Dr. Herschell, David Hartley and his sisters, and the Bowdler family. All these were united in friendship with my uncle. With Mrs. Francis Bowdler my cousin Priscilla formed a close intimacy. She was a clever woman, had a strong mind, and was thoroughly devoted to the English, or what was then called the High Church. It is no wonder that Priscilla, who was then under deep religious impressions, turned from the mistiness of most Friends' books of that day, and sought instruction from a person who appeared really devoted to God, as well as perfectly grounded in the principles of her faith. To Mrs. Bowdler, then, my cousin turned, and under her influence joined the communion of the Church of England.

But my

cousin has often told me, that when she was baptized, and when she received the Holy Communion, she had such a deep feeling that she was merely complying with empty ceremonies, that she could scarcely refrain from leaving the Church, and casting all away. Surely, whatever else she had been taught, she had not learnt to look to Him in the baptism of water, whose Holy Triune name, if received into the heart, is the source of Eternal Life. Surely, though she partook of the bread and wine, she did it ignorantly, "not discerning the Lord's body;" for if Christ be received, Christ within is the hope of glory.

I am, however, only the narrator of what my cousin herself told me. It was to the effect, that being at this time without true spiritual life, she felt trammelled by what appeared to her vain ceremonies, while her own participation in them seemed like hypocrisy and vain profession; a lying to God that was intolerable.

About this time a proposal of marriage was made to her, by the possessor of one of the most noted and beautiful places in England. Wearied with all she had gone through, her heart seemed inclined to turn to some other thing; and I have heard that her taste, and to a certain degree her affections, were so far drawn forth, that she was on the point of accepting her suitor. When all seemed nearly concluded, it

suddenly came into her mind," Shall I bind myself to man, while I am ignorant what is my real tie to God?" She at once changed her course, dismissed her admirer, threw off her profession of belonging to the English Church, and determined, whatever the consequences, that she would take no rest in any thing till God should lift up upon her the light of His countenance, and show His will respecting her. That day there was a large and splendid party at the house. I have heard, from one who was present, that my cousin Priscilla's appearance was radiant in beauty and elegant in fashion, so as to rivet the eyes of all; it seemed as if she alone were seen. From that party she went up into her room, locked her door, and casting herself prostrate before God, in the despair of her heart made a sort of vow that she would never leave that room till she had obtained some light upon her path. Into the conflict which followed it is not for me to enter. Suffice it to say

that, at the end of several days, she came out of her room in the attire of a plain Friend: peace was upon her countenance, stability and serenity were in her manner. The habitual presence of a plain Friend would have been an anomaly in the circle of my uncle Watson, and, cordially united though they were, such a position would have involved trial to my cousin herself. It was therefore arranged that it would be best for her to select a home amongst

her many attached friends, who had been long walking in the path she had now chosen. I am not acquainted with all the circumstances which decided that home to be in the house of Richard Reynolds, whose noble philanthropy and princely affluence made him well known as the munificent, yet humble Christian benefactor of every vicinity in which his abode was cast. He was at that time residing in the beautiful valley of the Severn, in Coalbrook Dale. The large iron-works carried on there, where the roaring of the blast furnaces, the long beds of glowing coke, the jets of flame and showers of sparks, and the stalwart forms of the various forgemen, mingled with the woods, the rocks, and caverns, or reflected in the broad waters of the Severn, gave it a peculiarity of appearance which I have never seen elsewhere. Nor were its moral less distinguished than its physical peculiarities. The beautiful village of Madeley, the abode of the holy William Fletcher and of his equally remarkable wife, was only about a mile distant from the Dale. The clergyman of the parish was a devout and assiduous pastor of his flock, and all the firm of partners in the well-known company of Coalbrook Dale, with their families, were amongst the most strict, and excellent, and beneficent members of the Society of Friends. Perfect unanimity reigned amongst them: each and all seemed, before all other interests, to have it at

4