members of her sect, was only tolerated by the family at Earlham; but she regarded it as matter of duty, and she bore the cross. Her marriage, in 1800, to Mr. Joseph Fry, of London, introduced her to a circle where plain Quakerism was in vogue. For some years after her marriage, her residence was at St. Mildred's Court, where the house of business of the firm was. The care of a rapidly-increasing family, and the duties of hospitality, which devolve with burdensome weight on affluent Friends at the times of their quarterly and yearly meetings, necessarily occupied a very large portion of Mrs. Fry's time and energy during the early portion of her married life. That she was sometimes depressed and overdone is not surprising. But she surrounded herself with a moral atmosphere, in which the sense of duty was the chief element. This is naturally expressed in her journal:

"Eighth month 5th.-I feel that when I do my part towards really performing my duty, it sheds a sweet and sober colouring over all my occupations; but when I do not, it appears to cast a mist, that I am obliged to find my way as well as I can, without my guide."-I. 105.

In her busiest years she found leisure for her charities, beyond as well as at home. She was the early friend of Joseph Lancaster, when struggling under difficulties and embarrassments with a large school which he had assembled around him in an upper chamber in Southwark. She undertook the duties of visitor to the school and workhouse belonging to the Society of Friends at Islington. With her it was no mere official routine, but the performance of a work to which her mind and heart were given. The more her heart was tried and exercised by domestic and social charities, the more sensitive did she become to thoughts of kindness, especially to those classes who are too seldom made the objects of benevolent sympathy. Thus when preparing to extend her domestic establishment, how kind her thoughts respecting servants!

"At this time there is no set of people I feel so much about as servants, as I do not think they have generally justice done to them; they are too much considered as another race of beings, and we are apt to forget that the holy injunction holds good with them, 'Do as thou wouldst be done unto.'. .. My mind is often much burdened on this subject. I long to make them my friends, and for us all to live in harmony and love. We greatly (I mean servants and their heads in general) misunderstand each other; I fully believe partly from our different situations in life, and partly from our different educations, and the way in which each party is apt to view the other."—I. 137,

138.

Mrs. Fry did not allow the deceptions of mendicants, which her persevering and judicious benevolence sometimes brought to light, to contract the circle of her sympathies. During the earlier years of her residence in London, when comparatively inexperienced, she was severely tried by the discovery of imposture. The following incident is characteristic of her resolute philanthropy:

"One cold winter day she was accosted by a woman asking charity, in the street, with a half-naked little child in her arms, very ill with the hooping cough. Grieved at the appearance of the child, and her suspicions excited by the evasive answers of the woman, Mrs. Fry offered to accompany her home, and there relieve her necessities; this the woman tried to elude; but determined in her purpose, she succeeded in following her into a low, back street, where, in a wretched, filthy house, the melancholy spectacle presented itself

of a number of sick and neglected infants not only without comforts, but with the aggravations of misery. The next day, when the medical attendant of her own children went at her request to assist the little sufferers, the room was empty, woman and children gone, nor was any trace ever found of them. On inquiry among the neighbours, it was discovered that these were parish children, put to this woman to nurse, who kept them in this condition not merely to assist her purposes of mendicity, but with the intention of shortening their lives, and then, by concealing their death, that she might receive the pittance allotted for their maintenance."-I. 118.

In the spring of 1809, on the death of her father-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Fry removed to the family mansion of Plashet, in Essex. The calm tranquillity of the country was doubly pleasant to her from its congeniality with her natural tastes, and from its renewing her early associations. The systematic variety of her pursuits may perhaps account for the perennial freshness of her feelings. At Plashet, attention to her children, to her school for poor children, and visits to the wretched homes of their parents, were intermingled with the care of her garden and the cultivation of her flower-beds. "Her brow would relax, and her countenance beam with intelligence, as she explained to her children the wonders of the heavenly bodies, the structure of an insect, or the growth and beauty of a flower."

Mrs. Fry seems to have been wonderfully preserved from the practical error, common to persons of ardent temperament, of allowing her attention to be engrossed by one pursuit or any particular objects of compassion. Her duties as the mother of a family, as a member of a church, as a member of the great family of man, were all in turn properly attended to. The process by which she secured this wise distribution of energy was that which secured her remarkable success in all her benevolent experiments on human nature—it was the strength of her sympathy. How many benevolent people have we known who, from the deficiency of the aesthetic habit, from looking at life and human character only from their own habitual position, have constantly been unsuccessful! Mrs. Fry read the hearts of others by putting herself unreservedly into their position. Her intuitive perception of the wants and weaknesses and mental wretchedness of her fellowcreatures, had to them a charm like magic. In the miserable outcasts, accustomed chiefly to coarse and brutal violence, whom she addressed, her calmness of manner, and the gentle tones of her naturally very sweet voice, awakened feelings first of surprise, then of respect, and these soon ripened into love. Whatever might be the doctrines of her creed, Mrs. Fry, like all successful moral reformers, did not believe in the total depravity of man. She had an invincible confidence in human nature. In the most degraded convict she believed there lay hidand she generally succeeded in reaching it—an element of regeneration and hope. Never did any one more habitually act on the beautiful sentiment enunciated by the poet,—

"The heart has tendrils like the vine,
Which round another's bosom twine,
Outspringing from the living tree
Of deeply planted sympathy;

Whose flowers are hope, its fruits are bliss,
Beneficence its harvest is.

There is in every human heart
Some not completely barren part,

Where seeds of truth and love might grow,
And flowers of generous virtue blow."

BOWRING.

Before proceeding to the prison labours of Mrs. Fry, we must mention, that the commencement of her duties as a public minister amongst the Friends was on the occasion of the death of her beloved father, in 1809. Sorrow, sickness and anxiety, seemed in her to awaken latent energy; and these vicissitudes in her life were generally the prelude to some new and great effort of duty and benevolence.

Her visits to Newgate began early in the year 1813. This is the simple notice in the journal of an early, if not her first visit:

"16th.-Yesterday we were some hours at Newgate with the poor female felons, attending to their outward necessities; we had been twice previously. Before we went away, dear Anna Buxton" (a sister of Sir T. F. Buxton) "uttered a few words in supplication, and, very unexpectedly to myself, I did also. I heard weeping, and I thought they appeared much tendered; a very solemn quiet was observed; it was a striking scene, the poor people on their knees around us, in their deplorable condition."-I. 204.

No English prisons were at that time the cleanly and well-regulated establishments that nearly all now are. Mrs. Fry and her benevolent coadjutors had the satisfaction of seeing public attention drawn afresh to the subject of prison discipline. Through her labours, the good work commenced by Howard was greatly promoted. Newgate was in 1813 the worst of the bad; we fear it is still the worst-managed prison of any magnitude in Great Britain. The state of things in this metropolitan jail, under the eye of the executive government, now sounds almost incredible.

"At that time, all the female prisoners in Newgate were confined in the part now known as the untried side. The larger part of the quadrangle was then used as a state-prison. The partition-wall was not of sufficient height to prevent the state-prisoners from overlooking the narrow yard and the windows of the two wards and two cells of which the women's division consisted: these four rooms comprised about 190 superficial yards, into which, at the time of these visits, nearly 300 women, with their numerous children, were crowded; tried and untried, misdemeanants and felons; without classification, without employment, and with no other superintendence than that given by a man and his son, who had charge of them by night and by day. Destitute of sufficient clothing, for which there was no provision; in rags and dirt, without bedding, they slept on the floor, the boards of which were in part raised to supply a sort of pillow. In the same rooms they lived, cooked and washed. "With the proceeds of their clamorous begging when any stranger appeared amongst them, the prisoners purchased liquors from a regular tap in the prison. Spirits were openly drank, and the ear was assailed by the most terrible language. Beyond that necessary for safe custody, there was little restraint over their communication with the world without.

"Although military sentinels were posted on the leads of the prison, such was the lawlessness prevailing, that Mr. Newman, the Governor, entered this portion of it with reluctance. Fearful that their watches should be snatched from their sides, he advised the ladies (though without avail) to leave them in his house."-I. 205.

This visit made a deep impression on Mrs. Fry's mind; but it was not until the year 1817 that her systematic efforts for the improvement of the female prisoners in Newgate were begun.

With that high courage which Christian principle can alone inspire, she desired on the occasion of her second visit to be left alone amongst the female prisoners, and her visit continued for several hours. With exquisite tact-if we may be permitted so to speak of that which was the impulse of her deep-seated benevolence-she made her first appeal to the natural feelings of those that were parents. The sight of the sickly, half-naked children, the innocent sharers and victims of their mothers' incarceration, aroused her tenderest compassion. She pointed out to these unhappy mothers the miserable consequences to their children of their crimes, and proposed an attempt to rescue them from ignorance and vice by the immediate establishment of a school within the prison. To secure their zealous co-operation, she left to them the choice of a schoolmistress. A suitable person was found, named Mary Connor, who was herself, through Mrs. Fry's influence, perfectly reclaimed, and was liberated by a free pardon about fifteen months afterwards, but soon after died in a consumption. The school was necessarily at first, from the want of room, limited to the children and to young persons under twenty-five years of age.

The daily visits to the school of these sisters of charity gave them many opportunities of noticing and deploring the wretched condition of the women.

"By degrees the heroic little band became convinced that good might be effected even amongst these; for intercourse with the prisoners had inspired them with confidence. The poor women were earnest in their entreaties not to be excluded from the benefits which they began to perceive would result to themselves from improved habits."

The benevolent wishes of Mrs. Fry and her coadjutors were strenuously discouraged as impracticable and futile by the servants of the prison, whose familiarity with the abandoned habits of the prisoners naturally enough inspired despair of their amendment. The sheriffs, fortunately, gave their aid to the attempt, and the laundry of the prison was prepared as a school-room for all the tried female prisoners. Mrs. Fry knew that, to secure any lasting improvement, the habit of idleness must be rooted out and habits of industry substituted. A scheme was suggested that the prisoners might be employed in manufacturing stockings and other articles of clothing for Botany Bay. With that trust in the honesty of human nature when appealed to in a spirit of generous confidence, Mrs. Fry went directly to Messrs. Dixon and Co., of Fenchurch Street, who at that time supplied this penal colony with clothing, and told them she wished to deprive them of their trade, and asked their advice and practical guidance. They not only did not obstruct her benevolent plans, but gave most important help by providing a constant supply of work for the prison.

To carry out the enlarged plan, an association was formed, consisting chiefly of members of the Society of Friends. The objects of the association were thus defined: "To provide for the clothing, the instruction and the employment of the women; to introduce them to a knowledge of the Holy Scriptures; and to form in them as much as possible those habits of order, sobriety and industry, which may render them docile and peaceable whilst in prison, and respectable when they leave it." Wisely did Mrs. Fry begin by raising up in the minds of these fallen beings a sense of self-respect and self-reliance.

"She then told them that the ladies did not come with any absolute and authoritative pretensions; that it was not intended they should command and the prisoners obey; but that it was to be understood all were to act in concert; that not a rule should be made or a monitor appointed without their full and unanimous concurrence; that, for this purpose, each of the rules should be read and put to the vote; and she invited those who might feel any disinclination to any particular, freely to state their opinion."—I. 269.

The result was the unanimous adoption of a series of judicious and very stringent laws. So complete was the success of this humane experiment upon the hapless female convicts of Newgate, and such unwonted order, cheerfulness and comfort, did it diffuse throughout this house of woe, that in six months' time the untried prisoners sent in a most urgent petition that they too might be admitted to share the instruction of the school and the industry of the manufactory, and promising strict obedience. The petition was granted, but the success was partial. For this larger experiment, it was not always found practicable to procure a sufficiency of work. The minds of the prisoners were not so unreservedly given to their duties, but were distracted by preparations for their trial and the hope of speedy release. What a commentary on the blessings of labour does the following statement furnish!

"The result of the observations of the ladies has been, that where the prisoners, from whatever cause, did no work, they derived little, if any, moral advantage; where they did some work, they received some benefit; and where they were fully engaged, they were really and essentially improved.”—I. 272.

To realize to our minds the wear and tear of mind and heart which Mrs. Fry's visits to Newgate cost, we must remember the horribly sanguinary character of the then existing penal code of England. Death was the punishment awarded by the law to many offences against property as well as the person. In forging and passing forged Bank-of-England notes, women were frequently employed by their more guilty partners, and the cells of Newgate were never free from women doomed to die on the scaffold. To become familiar with the persons and characters of these hapless women,-to see in them much that was interesting and good,-to be the conscious instrument of their improvement, could not but awaken in Mrs. Fry's mind feelings sometimes approaching to affection, which were fearfully wounded by their violent death. If an accidental visit to a prison, or attendance on a court of justice, has made us familiar with the person and history of a prisoner, with what painful interest do we read the account of his capital punishment! The expression of his countenance, the tones of his voice, the circumstances of his crime, haunt us by day and tinge our dreams by night. Mrs. Fry's feelings were proportionately and far more deeply tried and sometimes outraged. Two or three instances will suffice.

(March 4, 1817.) "I have just returned from a most melancholy visit to Newgate, where I have just been at the request of Elizabeth Fricker, previous to her execution to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. I found her much hurried, distressed and tormented in mind; her hands cold, and covered with something like the perspiration preceding death, and in an universal tremor. The women who were with her said she had been so outrageous before our going, that they thought a man must be sent for to manage her. However, after a serious time with her, her troubled soul became calmed. But is it for man thus to take the prerogative of the Almighty into his hands?... Besides