CHAPTER XIV.

Private subscriptions were sedulously sought, and large sums flowed in; besides these, many large book-sellers, and the chief religious publishing societies gave donations of books. These were valued in the aggregate at about one thousand pounds. The details of the work were left to herself, while the Rev. John W. Cunningham, Captain W.E. Parry, and Captain Bowles selected the books.

The total number of volumes for the stations amounted to 25,896. Each station possessed a library of fifty-two different books, while eachdistrict, which included the stations in that part of the country, possessed a larger assortment for reference and exchange. Most of the parcels were sent, carriage free, in Government vessels, by means of the Custom House. This work involved many journeys to London, and much arduous labor. The Rev. Thomas Timpson, a dissenting minister in London, acted most efficiently as secretary, and lightened her labors to a large extent. During the summer of 1835, the work of distributing these volumes was nearly all accomplished; and as during that summer Mr. Fry's business demanded his presence in the south of England, she decided to seize the opportunity of visiting all the Coast Guard stations in that part of the country. In this way she journeyed along the whole south coast, from the Forelands to Land's End, welcomed everywhere with true-hearted veneration and love. She addressed herself principally to the commanders of the different stations, bespeaking for the books care in treatment and regularity in carrying out the exchanges. These gentlemen manifested the warmest interest in the plan, and promised their most thorough co-operation.

At Portsmouth she visited the Haslar Hospital, and while in Portsea, the female Penitentiary. In the latter institution she desired to speak a few words to the inmates, who were, accordingly, assembled in the parlor for the purpose. Mrs. Fry laid her bonnet on the table, sat down, and made different inquiries about the conduct of the young women, and the rules enforced. It appeared that two of them were pointed out as being peculiarly hardened and refractory. She did not, however, notice this at the time, but delivered a short and affectionate address to all. Afterwards, on going away, she went up to the two refractory ones, and, extending her hand to them, said to each, most impressively: "I trust I shall hear better things of thee." Both of them burst into unexpected tears, thus acknowledging the might of kindness over such natures.

At Falmouth, during this same excursion, she supplied some of the men-of-war with libraries. Some of the packets participated in the same boon, so that each ship sailing from that port took out a well-chosen library of about thirty books. These library books were changed on each succeeding voyage, and were highly appreciated by both officers and seamen.

In 1836, the report of the Committee for furnishing the Coast Guard of the United Kingdom with Libraries, appeared. From it, we find that in addition to the £500 kindly granted by the Government at first towards the project, Mr. Spring Rice, a later Chancellor of the Exchequer granted further sums amounting to £460. Thus the undertaking was brought to a successful termination. There were supplied: 498 libraries for the stations on shore, including 25,896 volumes; 74 libraries for districts on shore, including 12,880 volumes; 48 libraries for cruisers, including 1,876 volumes; school books for children of crews, 6,464 volumes; pamphlets, tracts, etc., 5,357 numbers; total, 52,464 volumes and numbers.

These were distributed among 21,000 people on Coast Guard stations, and to the hands on board many ships. Years afterwards, many and very unexpected letters of thanks continued to reach Mrs. Fry from those who had benefited by this good work.

"Instant in season and out of season," this very trip in the south of England produced another good work. She, with her husband and daughter, returned home by way of North Devon, Somerset, and Wiltshire. At Amesbury she tarried long enough to learn something of the mental destitution of the shepherds employed on Salisbury Plain, and set her fertile brain to contrive a scheme for the supply of the necessary books. She communicated her desires and intentions to the clergyman of the parish, and Sir Edward and Lady Antrobus, who unitedly undertook to furnish a librarian. A short note from this individual, addressed to Mrs. Fry some few months after, proved how well the thing was working. In it he said: "Forty-five books are in constant circulation, with the additional magazines. More than fifty poor people read them with attention, return them with thanks, and desire the loan of more, frequently observing that they think it a very kind thing indeed that they should be furnished with so many good books, free of all costs, so entertaining and instructive, these long winter evenings."

About the same period Mrs. Fry formed a Servants' Society for the succor and help of domestic servants. She had known instances wherein so many of this class had come to sorrow, in every sense, for the lack of temporary refuge and assistance, that she alone undertook to found this institution. In an entry made in her journal in 1825, we find the following reference to this matter:—

The Servants' Society appears gradually opening as if it would be established according to my desire. No one knows what I go through in forming these institutions; it is always in fear, and mostly with many misgivings, wondering at myself for doing it. I believe the original motive is love to my Master and love to my fellow-creatures; but fear is so predominant a feeling in my mind that it makes me suffer, perhaps unnecessarily, from doubts. I felt something like freedom in prayer before making the regulations of the Servants' Society. Sometimes my natural understanding seems enlightened about things of that kind, as if I were helped to see the right and useful thing.

In closing this chapter, some allusion must be made to her latest effort. It dates from 1840, and owed its foundation principally to her. It was that of the "Nursing Sisters," an order called into existence by the needs of every-day life. As she visited in sick-chambers, or ministered to the needs of the poor, she felt the want of efficient skilled nurses, and, with the restless energy of a true philanthropist, set about remedying the want. Her own leisure would not admit of training a band of nurses, but her desire was carried into effect by Mrs. Samuel Gurney, her sister-in-law. Under this lady's supervision, and the patronage of the Queen Dowager, Lady Inglis, and other members of the nobility, a number of young women were selected, trained, and taught to fulfil the duties of nurses. They were placed for some time in the largest public hospitals, in order to learn the scientific system of nursing; then, supposing their qualifications and conduct were found to be satisfactory, they were received permanently as Sisters. These Sisters wore a distinctive dress, received an annual stipend of about twenty guineas, and were provided with a home during the intervals of their engagements. There was also a "Superannuation Fund" for the relief of those Sisters who should, after long service, fall into indigence or ill-health. Christian women, of all denominations, were encouraged to join the institution; while the services of the Sisters were equally available in the palace and in the cottage. No Sister was permitted to receive presents, directly or indirectly, from the patients nursed by her, seeing that all sums received went to a common fund for the benefit of the Society. These Sisters appear to have worked very much like the modern deaconesses of the Church of England. They rightly earned the title of "Sisters of Mercy."

These are but examples of Mrs. Fry's good works,—done "all for love, and none for a reward."

Many other smaller works claimed her thoughts, so that her life was very full of the royal grace of charity. The list might have been still further extended, but to the ordinary student of her life it is already sufficiently long to prove the reality of her religion and her love.

It is an old adage that "nothing succeeds like success." Mrs. Fry and her prison labors had become famous; not only famous, but the subjects of talk, both in society and out of it. Kings, queens, statesmen, philanthropists, ladies of fashion, devotees of charity, authors and divines were all looking with more or less interest at the experiments made by the apostles of this new crusade against vice, misery, and crime. Many of them courted acquaintance with the Quakeress who hesitated not to plunge into gloomy prison-cells, nor to penetrate pest-houses decimated with jail fever, in pursuance of her mission. And while they courted her acquaintance, they fervently wished her "God speed." Two or three communications, still in existence, prove that Hannah More and Maria Edgeworth were of the number of good wishers.

In a short note written from Barley Wood, in 1826, Hannah More thus expressed her appreciation of Mrs. Fry's character:—

Any request of yours, if within my very limited power, cannot fail to be immediately complied with. In your kind note, I wish you had mentioned something of your own health and that of your family. I look back with no small pleasure to the too short visits with which you once indulged me; a repetition of it would be no little gratification to me. Whether Divine Providence may grant it or not, I trust through Him who loved us, and gave Himself for us, that we may hereafter meet in that blessed country where there is neither sin, sorrow, nor separation.

Many years previous to this, Hannah More had presented Mrs. Fry with a copy of herPractical Piety, writing this inscription on the fly-leaf:—

To Mrs. Fry. Presented by Hannah More, as a token of veneration of her heroic zeal, Christian charity, and persevering kindness to the most forlorn of human beings. They were naked, and she clothed them, in prison, and she visited them; ignorant, and she taught them, forHissake, inHisname, and byHisword, who went about doing good.

No words can add to the beauty of this inscription.

During one of Maria Edgeworth's London visits, the name and fame of Mrs. Fry, and Newgate as civilized by her, formed such an attraction that the lively Irish authoress must needs go to see for herself. In her picturesque style she thus affords us an account of her visit:—

Yesterday we went, the moment we had swallowed our breakfast, by appointment to Newgate. The private door opened at sight of our tickets, and the great doors, and the little doors, and the thick doors, and doors of all sorts, were unbolted and unlocked, and on we went, through dreary but clean passages, till we came to a room where rows of empty benches fronted us, and a table, on which lay a large Bible. Several ladies and gentlemen entered, and took their seats on benches, at either side of the table, in silence.Enter Mrs. Fry, in a drab-colored silk cloak, and plain, borderless Quaker cap; a most benevolent countenance; Guido Madonna face, calm, benign. "I must make an inquiry; is Maria Edgeworth here? And where?" I went forward; she bade us come and sit beside her. Her first smile, as she looked upon me, I can never forget. The prisoners came in, and in an orderly manner ranged themselves on the benches. All quite clean faces, hair, caps and hands. On a very low bench in front, little children were seated, and watched by their mothers. Almost all these women, about thirty, were under sentence of transportation; some few only were for imprisonment. One who did not appear was under sentence of death; frequently women, when sentenced to death, become ill, and unable to attend Mrs. Fry; the others come regularly and voluntarily.She opened the Bible, and read in the most sweetly solemn, sedate voice I ever heard, slowly and distinctly, without anything in the manner that could distract attention from the matter. Sometimes she paused to explain; which she did with great judgment, addressing the convicts—"Wehave felt!Weare convinced!" They were very attentive, unexpectedly interested, I thought, in all she said, and touched by her manner. There was nothing put on in their countenances; not any appearance of hypocrisy. I studied their countenances carefully, but I could not see any which, without knowing to whom they belonged, I should have decided was bad; yet Mrs. Fry assured me that all those women had been of the worst sort. She confirmed what we have read and heard—that it was by their love of their children that she first obtained influence over these abandoned women. When she first took notice of one or two of their fine children, the mothers said that if she could but save their children from the misery they had gone through in vice, they would do anything she bid them. And when they saw the change made in their children by her schooling, they begged to attend themselves. I could not have conceived that the love of their children could have remained so strong in hearts in which every other feeling of virtue had so long been dead. The Vicar of Wakefield's sermon in prison is, it seems, founded on a deep and true knowledge of human nature; the spark of good is often smothered, never wholly extinguished. Mrs. Fry often says an extempore prayer; but this day she was quite silent; while she covered her face with her hands for some minutes, the women were perfectly silent, with their eyes fixed upon her; and when she said, "You may go," they went awayslowly. The children sat quite still the whole time; when one leaned, her mother behind her sat her upright. Mrs. Fry told us that the dividing the women into classes, and putting them under monitors, had been of the greatest advantage. There is some little pecuniary advantage attached to the office of monitor which makes them emulous to obtain it. We went through the female wards with Mrs. Fry, and saw the women at various works, knitting, rug-making, etc. They have done a great deal of needle-work very neatly, and some very ingenious. When I expressed my foolish wonder at this to Mrs. Fry's sister, she replied, "We have to do, recollect, Ma'am, not with fools, but with rogues."... Far from being disappointed with the sight of what Mrs. Fry has done, I was delighted.

Enter Mrs. Fry, in a drab-colored silk cloak, and plain, borderless Quaker cap; a most benevolent countenance; Guido Madonna face, calm, benign. "I must make an inquiry; is Maria Edgeworth here? And where?" I went forward; she bade us come and sit beside her. Her first smile, as she looked upon me, I can never forget. The prisoners came in, and in an orderly manner ranged themselves on the benches. All quite clean faces, hair, caps and hands. On a very low bench in front, little children were seated, and watched by their mothers. Almost all these women, about thirty, were under sentence of transportation; some few only were for imprisonment. One who did not appear was under sentence of death; frequently women, when sentenced to death, become ill, and unable to attend Mrs. Fry; the others come regularly and voluntarily.

She opened the Bible, and read in the most sweetly solemn, sedate voice I ever heard, slowly and distinctly, without anything in the manner that could distract attention from the matter. Sometimes she paused to explain; which she did with great judgment, addressing the convicts—"Wehave felt!Weare convinced!" They were very attentive, unexpectedly interested, I thought, in all she said, and touched by her manner. There was nothing put on in their countenances; not any appearance of hypocrisy. I studied their countenances carefully, but I could not see any which, without knowing to whom they belonged, I should have decided was bad; yet Mrs. Fry assured me that all those women had been of the worst sort. She confirmed what we have read and heard—that it was by their love of their children that she first obtained influence over these abandoned women. When she first took notice of one or two of their fine children, the mothers said that if she could but save their children from the misery they had gone through in vice, they would do anything she bid them. And when they saw the change made in their children by her schooling, they begged to attend themselves. I could not have conceived that the love of their children could have remained so strong in hearts in which every other feeling of virtue had so long been dead. The Vicar of Wakefield's sermon in prison is, it seems, founded on a deep and true knowledge of human nature; the spark of good is often smothered, never wholly extinguished. Mrs. Fry often says an extempore prayer; but this day she was quite silent; while she covered her face with her hands for some minutes, the women were perfectly silent, with their eyes fixed upon her; and when she said, "You may go," they went awayslowly. The children sat quite still the whole time; when one leaned, her mother behind her sat her upright. Mrs. Fry told us that the dividing the women into classes, and putting them under monitors, had been of the greatest advantage. There is some little pecuniary advantage attached to the office of monitor which makes them emulous to obtain it. We went through the female wards with Mrs. Fry, and saw the women at various works, knitting, rug-making, etc. They have done a great deal of needle-work very neatly, and some very ingenious. When I expressed my foolish wonder at this to Mrs. Fry's sister, she replied, "We have to do, recollect, Ma'am, not with fools, but with rogues."... Far from being disappointed with the sight of what Mrs. Fry has done, I was delighted.

Thisnaïve, informal chronicle of a visit to Newgate incidentally lets out the fact that the gloomy prison was fast becoming attractive to visitors—indeed, quite a show-place. That Mrs. Fry's labors were receiving official honor and recognition also, there is plenty of evidence to prove. In Prussia, her principles and exhortations had made such headway that the Government was adapting old prisons and building new, in order to carry out the modern doctrines of classification and employment. In Denmark, the King had given his sanction to the measures proposed by the Royal Danish Chancery for adding new buildings to the prison. As soon as these buildings were completed the females would be separated from the males, female warders were to be appointed, employment found for all prisoners, and books of information and devotion were to be supplied to each cell; while a chaplain (an unknown official, hitherto) was to be appointed. In Germany, four new penitentiaries were to be constructed; viz., at Berlin, Münster in Westphalia, Ratibor in Silesia, and Königsberg. Two of these penitentiaries were to be exactly like the Model Prison at Pentonville; separate confinement was to be practically carried out, and the prisoners were to be taught trades under the superintendence of picked teachers. From Düsseldorf came information that all the female prisoners were improving under the newrégime; that an asylum for discharged prisoners was effecting a wonderful transformation in the characters and lives of those who sought refuge there; and that the inmates only left its shelter to secure situations in service. In addition to these cheering items she had the satisfaction of holding communications with many princely, noble and royal personages on the Continent, respecting the progress of her favorite work, and the new regulations and buildings then adopted.

To return to her home-work and its ramifications will only be to prove how far the great principles which she had taught were bearing fruit. The Government Inspectors were working hard upon the lines laid down by Mrs. Fry; and if at times they found anything which clashed with their own pre-conceived ideas of what a prison should be, they were always ready to make allowance for the difficulties of pioneer work, such as this lady and her coadjutors had to do at Newgate. At Paramatta, New South Wales, where, according to a letter from the Rev. Samuel Marsden in an earlier part of this work, the condition of female convicts had been scandalous to the Government which shipped them out there, and deplorable in the extreme for the poor creatures themselves, a large factory had been erected, designed for the reception of the convicts upon their landing. It served its purpose well, being commodious enough to receive not only the new importations, but the refractory women also, who were returned from their situations. It was well managed; the inmates being divided into three classes, and treated with more or less kindness accordingly. True, at one time, even after the erection of this factory, from the management being entrusted to inefficient hands, a scene of disorder and misrule had prevailed; but that had been promptly and firmly repressed. Hard labor and strict discipline had succeeded in reducing the temporary confusion to something like order, and made residence there the dread of returning evil-doers, whilst it afforded a refuge for new-comers. Sir Richard Bourke, and Sir Ralph and Lady Darling, used every endeavor to make the place a success; while, at home, Lord Glenelg and Sir George Grey gave the matter, on behalf of the Government, every needful and possible aid. A good superintendent and matron were appointed from England, and supplied with every requisite for the instruction and occupation of the convicts at the factory.

This cordial co-operation of the Colonial Office in her schemes of improvement for the female convicts at Paramatta, encouraged her to attempt the same good work for the convicts at Hobart Town, Tasmania. It happened that by 1843 the transportation of females to New South Wales had ceased, the younger establishment at Hobart Town receiving all the female convicts; but, like the hydra of classic lore, the evil sprang up there as fresh and as vigorous as if it had not been conquered at Paramatta. Lady Franklin and other ladies communicated with Mrs. Fry, showing her the great need that still existed for her benevolent exertions in that quarter. From these communications it seemed that the assignment of women into domestic slavery still continued, in all its dire forms. When a convict ship arrived from England, employers of all grades became candidates for the services of the convicts. With the exception of publicans, and ticket-of-leave men, who were not allowed to employ convicts, anybody and everybody might engage the poor banished prisoners without any guarantee whatsoever as to the future conduct of the employer toward the servant, or specification as to the kind of work to be performed. Those convicts who have behaved themselves best on the voyage out were assigned to the best classes of society, while the others fell to the refuse of the employers' class. As it was a fact that a large proportion of the tradesmen applying for servants were convicts who had fully served their time, it may be imagined how lacking in civilization and integrity such employers often were. But if the condition of the convicts was hopeless after their assignment to places of service, it was, if possible, more hopeless still in the home, or "factory," in which they were first received. Some of the letters before referred to cast a flood of terrible light upon the condition of the poor wretches who had quitted their country "for that country's good," even when under supposed discipline and restraint. A passage from one of these letters reads like an ugly story of "the good old times!"

The Cascade Factory is a receiving-house for the women on their first arrival (if not assigned from the ship), or on their transition from one place to another, and also a house of correction for faults committed in domestic service; but with no pretension to be a place of reformatory discipline, and seldom failing to turn out the women worse than they entered it. Religious instruction there was none, except that occasionally on the Sabbath the superintendent of the prison read prayers, and sometimes divine service was performed by a chaplain, who also had an extensive parish to attend to.The officers of the establishment consisted, at that time, of only five persons—a porter, the superintendent, and matron, and two assistants. The number of persons in the factory, when first visited by Miss Hayter, was five hundred and fifty. It followed, of course, that nothing like prison discipline could be enforced, or even attempted. In short, so congenial to its inmates was this place of custody (it would be unfair to call it a place of punishment) that they returned to it again and again when they wished to change their place of servitude; and they were known to commit offences on purpose to be sent into it, preparatory to their reassignment elsewhere.Yet, after visiting the factory, and hearing everybody speak of its unhappy inmates, I could not but feel that they were far more to be pitied than blamed. No one has ever attempted any measure to ameliorate their degraded condition. I felt that had they had the opportunity of religious instruction, some at least might be rescued. I wish I could express to you all I feel and think upon the subject, and how completely I am overwhelmed with the awful sin of allowing so many wretched beings to perish for lack of instruction. Even in the hospital of the factory the unhappy creatures are as much neglected, in spiritual things, as if they were in a heathen land. There are no Bibles, and no Christians to tell them of a Saviour's dying love.

The officers of the establishment consisted, at that time, of only five persons—a porter, the superintendent, and matron, and two assistants. The number of persons in the factory, when first visited by Miss Hayter, was five hundred and fifty. It followed, of course, that nothing like prison discipline could be enforced, or even attempted. In short, so congenial to its inmates was this place of custody (it would be unfair to call it a place of punishment) that they returned to it again and again when they wished to change their place of servitude; and they were known to commit offences on purpose to be sent into it, preparatory to their reassignment elsewhere.

Yet, after visiting the factory, and hearing everybody speak of its unhappy inmates, I could not but feel that they were far more to be pitied than blamed. No one has ever attempted any measure to ameliorate their degraded condition. I felt that had they had the opportunity of religious instruction, some at least might be rescued. I wish I could express to you all I feel and think upon the subject, and how completely I am overwhelmed with the awful sin of allowing so many wretched beings to perish for lack of instruction. Even in the hospital of the factory the unhappy creatures are as much neglected, in spiritual things, as if they were in a heathen land. There are no Bibles, and no Christians to tell them of a Saviour's dying love.

Mrs. Fry laid these communications before the Colonial Secretary without delay, praying him to alter this terrible state of things. She was at once listened to. The building was altered, by orders from England; the convicts were divided into classes; employment and discipline were provided; daily instruction, both secular and religious, was imparted; so that, by degrees, the establishment became what it should have been from the first—a house of detention, discipline, and refuge. In addition, a large vessel called theAnsonwas fitted up as a temporary prison, sent out to Hobart Town, and moored in the river. This vessel received the new shipments of transports from England, and afforded, by its staff of officers, opportunity for a six months' training of the convicts, who then were not permitted to enter the service of the colonists until after this period had expired. By these different means Mrs. Fry had the satisfaction of knowing that the convicts had yet another opportunity of amendment granted them after leaving the prisons of their native land. It has already been observed that in most of the prisons of the United Kingdom female warders were employed, while matrons were appointed on the out-going convict ships. Contrary to the lot of many reformers, Mrs. Fry was spared to see most of the reforms which she had recommended, become law.

After Mrs. Fry's death an interesting report was issued by the Inspector-General of Prisons in Ireland, relating to the Grange Gorman Lane Female Prison, Dublin. Mrs. Fry had taken special interest in this prison, it having been the first erectedexclusively for womenin the United Kingdom, and intended, if found successful, to serve as a sort of model for other places. The experiment had proved entirely successful and satisfactory; matron, warders and chaplain all united in one chorus of praise. Major Cottingham, the Inspector-General, wrote:—

Although I made my annual inspection of this prison on February 18th, 1847, as a date upon which to form my report, yet I have had very many opportunities of seeing it during past and former years, in my duties connected with my superintendence of the convict department. The visitors may see many changes in the faces and persons of the prisoners, but no surprise can ever find a difference in the high and superior order with which this prison is conducted. The matron, Mrs. Rawlins, upon whom the entire responsibility of the interior management devolves, was selected some years since, and sent over to this country by the benevolent and philanthropic Mrs. Fry, whose exertions in the cause of female prison reformation were extended to all parts of the British Empire, and who, although lately summoned to the presence of her Divine Master, has nowhere left a more valuable instance of her sound judgment and high discriminating powers than in the selection of Mrs. Rawlins to be placed at the head of this experimental prison, occupied alone by females; and so successful has the experiment been, that I understand several other prisons solely for females have been lately opened in Scotland, and even in Australia. In this prison is to be seen an uninterrupted system of reformatory discipline in every class, such as is to be found in no other prison that I am aware of.

The matron alluded to in the above extracts gratefully acknowledged that Mrs. Fry's plan had completely succeeded in every respect, while she was equally grateful in owning that to her instructions and wise maternal counsel she herself owed her own fitness for that special branch of the work.

The testimonies to her success not only came in from official quarters, but from the prisoners themselves. This chronicle would scarcely be complete without a specimen or two of the many communications she received from prisoners at home and from convicts abroad. True, on one or two occasions the women at Newgate had behaved in a somewhat refractory manner, for their poor degraded human nature could not conceive of pure disinterested Christian love working for their good without fee or reward; but even at these times their better nature very soon reasserted itself, and penitence and tears took the place of insubordination. To those who had sinned against and had been forgiven by her, Mrs. Fry's memory was something almost too holy for earth. No orthodoxly canonized saint of the Catholic Church ever received truer reverence, or performed such miracles of moral healing.

The following communication reached her from some of the prisoners at Newgate:—

Honored Madam,—Influenced by gratitude to our general benefactress and friend, we humbly venture to address you. It is with sorrow we say that we had not the pleasure of seeing you at the accustomed time, which we have always been taught to look for—we mean Friday last. We are fearful that your health was the cause of our being deprived of that heartfelt joy which your presence always diffuses through the prison; but we hope, through the mercies of God, we shall be able personally to return you the grateful acknowledgments of our hearts, before we leave our country forever, for all the past and present favors so benevolently bestowed upon what has been termed the "most unfortunate of society," until cheered by your benevolence, kindness and charity: and hoping that your health, which is so dear to such a number of unfortunates, will be fully re-established before we go, so that after our departure from our native land, those who are so unfortunate as to fall into our situation may enjoy the same blessing, both temporally and spiritually, that we have done before them. And may our minds be impressed with a due sense of the many comforts we have enjoyed whilst under your kind protection. Honored and worthy Madam, we hope we shall be pardoned for our presumption in addressing you at this time, but our fears of not seeing you before the time of our departure induce us to entreat your acceptance of our prayers for your restoration to your family; and may the prayers and supplications of the unfortunate prisoners ascend to Heaven for the prolonging of that life which is so dear to the most wretched of the English nation. Honored Madam, we beg leave to subscribe ourselves, with humble respect, your most grateful and devoted,The Prisoners of Newgate.

The Prisoners of Newgate.

The following letter was from a convict at Paramatta, New South Wales, some time after her banishment to that colony:—

Honored Madam,—The duty I owe to you, likewise to the benevolent society to which you have the honor to belong, compels me to take up my pen to return you my most sincere thanks for the heavenly instruction I derived from you, and the dear friends, during my confinement in Newgate.In the month of April, 1817, that blessed prayer of yours sank deep into my heart; and as you said, so I have found it, that when no eyes see and no ears hear, God both sees and hears, and then it was that the arrow of conviction entered my hard heart; in Newgate it was that poor Harriet, like the Prodigal Son, came to herself, and took with her words, and sought the Lord. Truly I can say with David, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I have learned Thy ways, O Lord."... Believe me, my dear Madam, I bless the day that brought me inside Newgate walls, for then it was that the ways of Divine truth shone into my dark mind.'... Believe me, my dear Madam, although I am a poor captive in a distant land, I would not give up having communion with God one single day for my liberty; for what is the liberty of the body compared with the liberty of the soul? Soon will the time come when death will release me from all the earthly fetters that hold me now, for I trust to be with Christ, who bought me with His precious blood. And now, my dear Madam, these few sincere sentiments of mine I wish you to make known to the world, that the world may see that your labor in Newgate has not been in vain in the Lord. Please give my love to the dear friends; the keeper of Newgate, and all the afflicted prisoners; and although we may never meet on earth again, I hope we shall all meet in the realms of bliss, never to part again.Believe me to remain your humble servant,HarrietS——.

In the month of April, 1817, that blessed prayer of yours sank deep into my heart; and as you said, so I have found it, that when no eyes see and no ears hear, God both sees and hears, and then it was that the arrow of conviction entered my hard heart; in Newgate it was that poor Harriet, like the Prodigal Son, came to herself, and took with her words, and sought the Lord. Truly I can say with David, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I have learned Thy ways, O Lord."... Believe me, my dear Madam, I bless the day that brought me inside Newgate walls, for then it was that the ways of Divine truth shone into my dark mind.'... Believe me, my dear Madam, although I am a poor captive in a distant land, I would not give up having communion with God one single day for my liberty; for what is the liberty of the body compared with the liberty of the soul? Soon will the time come when death will release me from all the earthly fetters that hold me now, for I trust to be with Christ, who bought me with His precious blood. And now, my dear Madam, these few sincere sentiments of mine I wish you to make known to the world, that the world may see that your labor in Newgate has not been in vain in the Lord. Please give my love to the dear friends; the keeper of Newgate, and all the afflicted prisoners; and although we may never meet on earth again, I hope we shall all meet in the realms of bliss, never to part again.

Believe me to remain your humble servant,

HarrietS——.

In addition to the grateful acknowledgments of "those who were ready to perish," Mrs. Fry won an unusual meed of honorable esteem from the noble and great. Sovereigns and rulers, statesmen and cabinet councillors, all owned the worth of goodness, and rendered to the Quaker lady the homage of both tongue and heart. Beside that notable visit to the Mansion House to be presented to Queen Charlotte, in 1818, Mrs. Fry had many interviews with royalty—these royal and noble personages conferring honor upon themselves more than upon her by their kindly interest in her work.

In 1822 the Prince and Princess Royal of Denmark visited England, and spent considerable time in inspecting public institutions, schools, and charities tending to advance the general well-being of the people. Of course Mrs. Fry's name was spoken of prominently, seeing that she was then in the full tide of her Newgate labors. The Duchess of Gloucester first introduced Mrs. Fry to the Princess, when a few words of question and explanation were given in relation to the prison enterprise. But some days later, the family at Plashet House were apprised of the fact that the Princess intended honoring them with her company at breakfast. She came at the hour appointed, and, while partaking of their hospitality, entered fully into Mrs. Fry's work, learning of her those particulars which she could not otherwise gain. The foundation of a firm friendship with the Princess Royal of Denmark was thus laid, which continued through all Mrs. Fry's after life.

In 1831 she obtained her first interview with our gracious Queen, then the young Princess Victoria. Then, as now, the Royal Family of England was always interested in works of charity and philanthropy, and the young Princess displayed the early bent of her mind in this interview. In the most unaffected style Mrs. Fry thus tells the story: "About three weeks ago I paid a very satisfactory visit to the Duchess of Kent, and her very pleasing daughter, the Princess Victoria. William Allen went with me. We took some books on the subject of slavery, with the hope of influencing the young Princess in that important cause. We were received with much kindness and cordiality, and I felt my way open to express not only my desire that the best blessing may rest upon them, but that the young Princess might follow the example of our blessed Lord; that as she grew in stature she might also grow in favor with God and man. I also ventured to remind her of King Josiah, who began to reign at eight years old, and did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, which seemed to be well received. Since that I thought it right to send the Duke of Gloucester my brother Joseph's work on the Sabbath, with a rather serious letter, and had a very valuable answer from him, full of feeling. I have an invitation to visit the Duchess of Gloucester the next Fourth Day. May good result to them and no harm to myself; but I feel those openings a rather weighty responsibility, and desire to be faithful and not forward. I had long felt an inclination to see the young Princess, and endeavor to throw a little weight into the right scale, seeing the very important place she is likely to fill. I was much pleased with her, and think her a sweet, lovely and hopeful child."

Some three years afterwards the Duke of Gloucester died, and his death recalled the old times when he was quartered at Norwich with his regiment. The biographers of Elizabeth Fry tell us that the Duke "was amongst the few who addressed words of friendly caution and sound advice to the young and motherless sisters at Earlham." She never forgot the old friendship—a friendship which had been increased by the unfailing interest of both the Duke and Duchess in her philanthropic work. As soon as she heard of the bereavement she wrote the following letter to the Princess Sophia of Gloucester:—

My dear Friend:I hope thou wilt not feel it an intrusion my expressing my sympathy with thee in the death of the Duke of Gloucester. To lose a dear and only brother is no small trial, and for a while makes the world appear very desolate. But I trust that having thy pleasant pictures marred in this life may be one means of opening brighter prospects in the life to come, and of having thy treasure increased in the heavenly inheritance. The Duchess of Gloucester kindly commissioned a lady to write to me, who gave me a very comforting account of the state of the Duke's mind. I feel it cause for much thankfulness that he was so sustained through faith in his Lord and Saviour; and we may humbly trust, through His merits, saved with an everlasting salvation. It would be very pleasant to me to hear how thy health and spirits are after so great a shock, and I propose inquiring at Blackheath, where I rather expect to be next week; or if thou wouldst have the kindness to request one of thy ladies in waiting to write me a few lines I should be much obliged. I hope that my dear and valued friend, the Duchess of Gloucester, is as well as we can expect after her deep affliction.

My dear Friend:

I hope thou wilt not feel it an intrusion my expressing my sympathy with thee in the death of the Duke of Gloucester. To lose a dear and only brother is no small trial, and for a while makes the world appear very desolate. But I trust that having thy pleasant pictures marred in this life may be one means of opening brighter prospects in the life to come, and of having thy treasure increased in the heavenly inheritance. The Duchess of Gloucester kindly commissioned a lady to write to me, who gave me a very comforting account of the state of the Duke's mind. I feel it cause for much thankfulness that he was so sustained through faith in his Lord and Saviour; and we may humbly trust, through His merits, saved with an everlasting salvation. It would be very pleasant to me to hear how thy health and spirits are after so great a shock, and I propose inquiring at Blackheath, where I rather expect to be next week; or if thou wouldst have the kindness to request one of thy ladies in waiting to write me a few lines I should be much obliged. I hope that my dear and valued friend, the Duchess of Gloucester, is as well as we can expect after her deep affliction.

Shortly after this she paid a visit of condolence to the Duchess by appointment.

Early in 1840 the young Queen, her present Majesty, sent Mrs. Fry a present of fifty pounds by Lord Normanby for the Refuge at Chelsea, and appointed an audience. On the first day of February Mrs. Fry, accompanied by her brother, Samuel Gurney, and William Allen, attended at Buckingham Palace. This was only a few days before Her Majesty espoused Prince Albert. Mrs. Fry writes as follows in her journal, respecting that interview:—

We went to Buckingham Palace and saw the Queen. Our interview was short. Lord Normanby, the Home Secretary, presented us. The Queen asked us when we were going on the Continent. She said it was some years since she saw me. She asked about Caroline Neave's Refuge, for which she has lately sent me the fifty pounds. This gave me an opportunity of thanking her. I ventured to express my satisfaction that she encouraged various works of charity, and I said it reminded me of the words of Scripture, "With the merciful Thou wilt show Thyself merciful." Before we withdrew I stopped, and said I hoped the Queen would allow me to assure her that it was our prayer that the blessing of God might rest upon the Queen and her Consort.

In January, 1842, the Lady Mayoress pressed Mrs. Fry to attend a banquet given at the Mansion House, in order principally to meet Prince Albert, Sir Robert Peel, and the different Ministers of State. After a little mental conflict she decided to go, with the earnest hope and purpose of doing more good for the prisoners. A summary of her sayings and doings at that banquet is best supplied in her own words:—

I had an important conversation on a female prison being built, with Sir James Graham, our present Secretary of State.... I think it was a very important beginning with him for our British Ladies' Society. With Lord Aberdeen, Foreign Secretary, I spoke on some matters connected with the present state of the Continent; with Lord Stanley, our Colonial Secretary, upon the state of our penal colonies, and the condition of the women in them, hoping to open the door for further communications with him upon these subjects. Nearly the whole dinner was occupied in deeply interesting conversation with Prince Albert and Sir Robert Peel. With the Prince I spoke very seriously upon the Christian education of their children ... the infinite importance of a holy and religious life; how I had seen it in all ranks of life, no real peace or prosperity without it; then the state of Europe, the advancement of religion in the continental courts; then prisons, their present state in this country, my fear that our punishments were becoming too severe, my wish that the Queen should be informed of some particulars respecting separate confinement. We also had much entertaining conversation about my journeys, the state of Europe, modes of living, and habits of countries. With Sir Robert Peel I dwelt much more on the prison subject; I expressed my fears that jailers had too much power, that punishment was rendered uncertain, and often too severe; pressed upon him the need of mercy, and begged him to see the new prison, and to have the dark cells a little altered.... I was wonderfully strengthened, bodily and mentally, and believe I was in my right place there, though an odd one for me. I sat between Prince Albert and Sir Robert Peel at dinner, and a most interesting time we had.... It was a very remarkable occasion; I hardly ever had such respect and kindness shown to me; it was really humbling and affecting to me, and yet sweet to see such various persons, whom I had worked with for years past, showing such genuine kindness and esteem so far beyond my most unworthy deserts.

Royalty and nobility thus concurred in carrying out, although perhaps unconsciously, the Scriptural command: "Esteem such very highly in love for their works' sake." It is interesting to notice how very frequently, in this world, the course of events does coincide with the words of Holy Writ, and the honor which Providence showers upon a remarkable servant of God. It is equally interesting, also, to see how completely, in the philanthropic Quakeress, the nobility of moral greatness was acknowledged by the highest personages in the land.

Very soon after this meeting at the Mansion House, the King of Prussia arrived in England, to stand as sponsor to the infant Prince of Wales; and, speedily after his arrival, he desired to see Mrs. Fry. He neither forgot nor ignored her visits to his dominions in the interests of charity; and he concluded that a woman who could travel thousands of miles upon the Continent, in order to ameliorate the condition of prisoners and lunatics, must be worth visiting at her own home. By his special desire, therefore, she was sent for, to meet him at the Mansion House. After the dinner, at which no toasts were proposed, in deference to Mrs. Fry's religious scruples, an appointment was made by the King to meet her at Newgate on the following morning, and afterwards to take luncheon at the house in Upton Lane. This memorable engagement was carried out in its entirety about midday. Mrs. Fry and one of her sisters set out to meet the party, which included the King, his suite, the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, the Sheriffs, some of the Ministers of State, and a large number of gentlemen. The poor women of Newgate numbered about sixty, and doubtless their attention was somewhat distracted by the grand company present; but Mrs. Fry, with her accustomed common-sense, reminded them that a greater than the King of Prussia was present, even "the King of Kings and Lord of Lords." After this admonition she read the 12th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, and expounded and conducted a short devotional service. Then, she says, "the King again gave me his arm, and we walked down together. There were difficulties raised about his going to Upton, but he chose to persevere. I went with the Lady Mayoress and the Sheriffs, the King with his own people. We arrived first; I had to hasten to take off my cloak, and then went down to meet him at his carriage-door, with my husband and seven of our sons and sons-in-law. I then walked with him into the drawing-room, where all was in beautiful order—neat, and adorned with flowers. I presented to the King our eight daughters and daughters-in-law, our seven sons and eldest grandson, my brother and sister Buxton, Sir Henry and Lady Pelley, and my sister-in-law Elizabeth Fry—my brother and sister Gurney he had known before—and afterwards presented twenty-five of our grandchildren. We had a solemn silence before our meal, which was handsome and fit for a king, yet not extravagant, everything most complete and nice. I sat by the King, who appeared to enjoy his dinner, perfectly at his ease and very happy with us. We went into the drawing-room after another silence and a few words which I uttered in prayer for the King and Queen. We found a deputation of Friends with an address to read to him; this was done; the King appeared to feel it much. We then had to part. The King expressed his desire that blessings might continue to rest on our house."

Solomon says: "Seest thou a man diligent in his business he shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean men." Elizabeth Fry's life was a living proof of the honors that a persistent, steady, self-denying course of doing good invariably wins in the long run.

Indefatigable workers wear out, while drones rust out. As the years are counted, of so many days, months, and weeks, many workers of this class die prematurely; but a wiser philosophy teaches that "He liveth long who liveth well." Into her years of life, long, eventful, and busy, Elizabeth Fry had crowded the work of many ordinary women; it was little wonder, therefore, that at a time when most people would have settled down to enjoy the relaxations and comforts of a "green old age," she had begun to set her house in order,to die. Her energies had been fairly worn out in the service of humanity, and from the time that she made the resolution to serve God, when moved by William Savery's pleadings, right onward through forty-eight years of sunshine and shadow, vicissitudes and labors, she had never swerved from her simple, earnest purpose. The propelling motive to that long course of Christian usefulness may be found in a few words uttered by her shortly before her death: "Since my heart was touched at seventeen years old, I believe I have never awakened from sleep, in sickness or in health, by day or by night, without my first waking thought being, 'how best I might serve my Lord.'" That unchanged desire ultimately became the master-passion of her life.

Honors clustered thickly about her declining days. She was the welcomed guest of royalty and nobility; on the Continent, as well as in far-away English colonies, her name was pronounced only with respectful love. Her eldest son was appointed to the magistracy of the county; her relatives and associates were foremost in every enterprise intended to benefit mankind; while both in Parliament and out of it, her recommendations were respectfully adopted. Had her years been counted on the patriarchal scale, instead of by their own shortened number, she could have reaped no higher honors; for titles were in her ears but empty sounds, and wealth only meant increased responsibility. Not many nobler souls walked this earth, either in Quaker garb or out of it.

In 1842 her state of health appeared to be so infirm and shattered that her brother-in-law, Mr. Hoare, offered her the loan of his house at Cromer. She accepted the offer for a couple of months, and found a little benefit for the bracing air. She mentioned in her diary at this time that she had "an undue fear of an imbecile or childish state"—a not unlikely feeling to be cherished by an energetic woman accustomed all her life long to the work of helping others. At the end of October she returned home, thankfully rejoicing, however, in an improved state of health.

But a new series of trials awaited her. Death seemed to visit the happy family circle so often that one wonders almost where the tale will stop. Four or five grand-children passed away in rapid succession. After the funeral of the first grand-child, she assembled the family party in the evening, and with a little of the old fire and yearning affection, gave them exhortation and consolation. Then she prayed for all the members of the three generations present. After this funeral service she paid a final visit to France; and then returned home, to descend still further into the valley of suffering.

Her sister-in-law—also named Elizabeth Fry—died during this time of weakness and pain. There had been a close bond of sympathy between these two women; they had travelled many times together as ministers in the Society of Friends, and had been united by the closest bonds of womanly and Christian affection. The faithful sister-in-law preceded the philanthropist to "the better land," by about fifteen months.

In the summer of 1844 she attended her beloved meeting at Plaistow once more. She had been so long in declining health, that meeting with the associates of former years, for worship, had been of necessity an enjoyment altogether out of the question. But Sunday after Sunday, as the "church-going bell" resounded on the still morning air, her spirit yearned to worship God after the manner of her sect. Still, for weeks the attempt was an abortive one. The difficult process of dressing was never accomplished until long after 11 o'clock, the hour when the meeting assembled. The desire was only intensified, however, by these repeated disappointments, and finally it was resolved that the attempt should be made on Sunday, August 4th, at all risks. It succeeded. Drawn by two of her children, in a wheeled chair, she was taken up to the meeting, a few minutes after the hour for commencing worship. Her husband, children and servants followed behind, fearing whether or no the ordeal would be too heavy for the wasted frame. But after remaining for some time in the wonted quiet of the sanctuary, an access of strength seemed to be granted her, and in somewhat similar spirit to that of the old patriarchs, when about to bid farewell to the scene of labor and life, she lifted up her voice once more with weighty, solemn words of counsel. The prominent topic of her discourse was "the death of the righteous." She expressed the deepest thankfulness, alluding to her sister-in-law, Elizabeth Fry, for mercies vouchsafed to one who, having labored amongst them, had been called from time to eternity. She quoted that text, "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they cease from their labors, and their works do follow them." She dwelt on the purposes of affliction, on the utter weakness and infirmity of the flesh, and then tenderly exhorted the young. She urged the need of devotedness of heart and steadfastness of purpose; she raised a tribute of praise for the eternal hope offered to the Christian, and concluded with these words from Isaiah: "Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty; they shall behold the land that is very far off." Prayer was afterwards offered by her in a similar strain, and then the meeting ended. Shortly after this, a removal to Walmer was effected, in the vain hope that the footsteps of death might be retarded.

From one of her letters, written at this date, we quote the following passage:—

I walk in a low valley, still I believe I may say that the everlasting arms are underneath me, and the Lord is very near. I pass through deep waters, but I trust, as my Lord is near to me, they will not overflow me. I need all your prayers in my low estate. I think the death of my sister, and dear little Gurney, has been almost too much for me.

But Mrs. Fry was to pass through still deeper waters of affliction and trial while in her suffering state. A visitation of scarlet fever attacked the family of her son William, and, in spite of all medical attentions, he and two of his daughters fell beneath the destroyer's hand. A scene of desolation ensued; the servants, as they sickened, were taken to Guy's Hospital, and the Manor House was deserted, for those members of the household who had escaped the infection had to flee for their lives. For a time, the dear ones who ministered to Mrs. Fry were too terror-stricken and crushed by the trial to venture on telling their mother all; more than that, they feared for her life also. But the "Christian's faith proved stronger than the mother's anguish. She wept abundantly, almost unceasingly; but she dwelt constantly on the unseen world, seeking for passages in the Bible which speak of the happy state of the righteous. She was enabled to rejoice in the rest upon which her beloved ones had entered, and in a wonderful manner to realize the blessedness of their lot." Her other children gathered around her at Walmer, anxious to comfort her, and be themselves comforted by her in this succession of bereavements. She had been such a tower of strength to all her family, in the years which had gone, that they almost instinctively clustered around her now with the old trustful, yearning devotion; but she was, although firm in spirit, so frail in body as to be like the trembling ivy requiring the most constant and tender support. Writing in her journal about this time, Mrs. Fry thus expressed her feelings: "Sorrow upon sorrow! The trial is almost inexpressible. Oh! dear Lord, keep thy unworthy servant in this time of severe trial; keep me sound in faith and clear in mind, and be very near to us all." Shortly after this entry a beloved niece died; and, as if the hungry maw of Death were not yet satisfied, Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, her brother-in-law, friend and coadjutor in so many benevolent schemes, also became a victim. It is certain that these numerous losses weaned her much from life; it is also certain that her splendid reasoning powers gave way for a time, and the infirmity of premature old age crept over her mind. In this way she was mercifully kept from being utterly crushed. Yet, while her mental strength remained, she thought lovingly of those ladies who had been associated with her in her philanthropic works and penned a few lines of parting counsel to them. The following is the text of the last written communication addressed by her to the Committee of the Ladies' British Society:—

My much-loved friends, amidst many sorrows that have been permitted for me to pass through, and much bodily suffering, I still feel a deep and lively interest in the cause of poor prisoners; and earnest is my prayer that the God of all grace may be very near to help you to be steadfast in the important Christian work of seeking to win the poor wanderers to return, repent and live; that they may know Christ to be their Saviour, Redeemer and hope of glory. May the Holy Spirit direct your steps, strengthen your hearts, and enable you and me to glorify our Holy Head in doing and suffering even unto the end; and when the end comes, through a Saviour's love and merits, may we be received into glory and everlasting rest and peace.

In the spring of 1845 she paid a last visit to Earlham Hall. She had, with the tenacity of desire peculiar to invalids, longed intensely to behold again the scenes amid which her youth was spent, and to welcome once more those familiar faces yet left in the old home. While there she was several times drawn to the meeting at Norwich, and even spoke on different occasions with her wonted fire and persuasiveness. It seemed as if her powerful memory was revived, seeing that the stores of Scripture which she had made hers were now drawn upon with singular aptness and felicity. After paying one or two farewell visits to North Repps and Runcton she returned once more to Upton Lane. Once settled there, she received many marks of sympathy from the excellent of all denominations, as well as from the noble and rich. The Duchess of Sutherland and her daughters, the Chevalier de Bunsen, and others who had heard of or known her, called upon her with every token of respectful affection; while, on her part, she spoke and acted as if in the very light of Eternity. So anxious, indeed, was she still to do what she conceived to be her Master's work, that she made prodigious efforts to attend meetings connected with the Society of Friends and with her own special prison work. Thus she was present at two of the yearly meetings for Friends in London in May, and on June 3d attended the annual meeting at the British Ladies' Society. This meeting was removed from the usual place at Westminster to the Friends' meeting-house at Plaistow, in deference to Mrs. Fry's infirm health and visibly-declining strength. In a report issued by this society, some four or five weeks after Mrs. Fry's death, the committee paid a fitting tribute to her labors with them, and the sacred preëminence she had won in the course of those labors. In the memorial they referred to this meeting in the following terms:—

Contrary to usual custom, the place of meeting fixed on was not in London, but at Plaistow, in Essex, and the large number of friends who gathered around her on that occasion, proved how gladly they came to her when she could no longer, with ease, be conveyed to them. The enfeebled state of her bodily frame seemed to have left the powers of her mind unshackled, and she took, though in a sitting posture, almost her usual part in repeatedly addressing the meeting. She urged, with increased pathos and affection, the objects of philanthropy and Christian benevolence with which her life had been identified. After the meeting, and at her own desire, several members of the committee, and other friends, assembled at her house. They were welcomed by her with the greatest benignity and kindness, and in her intercourse with them, strong were the indications of the heavenly teaching through which her subdued and sanctified spirit had been called to pass. Her affectionate salutation in parting, unconsciously closed, in regard to most of them, the intercourse which they delighted to hold with her, but which can be no more renewed on this side of the eternal world.

At this time Mrs. Fry found intense satisfaction in learning that the London prisons—Newgate, Bridewell, Millbank, Giltspur Street, Compter, Whitecross Street, Tothill Fields, and Coldbath Fields—were all in more or less excellent order, and regularly visited by the ladies who had been her coadjutors, and were to be her successors.

A few weeks later she was taken to Ramsgate, in the hope that the sea-air would restore her strength for a little time; and while there her old interest in the Coastguard Libraries returned, fresh and lively as ever. It was, indeed, a proof of the ruling passion being strong in almost dying circumstances. She attended meeting whenever possible, obtained a grant of Bibles and Testaments from the Bible Society, arranged, sorted, and distributed them among the sailors in the harbor, with the help of her grandchildren, and manifested, by her daily deportment, how fully she had learned the hard lesson of submission and patience in suffering.

A few days before the end, pressure of the brain became apparent; severe pain, succeeded by torpor and loss of power, and, after a short time, utter unconsciousness, proved that the sands of life had nearly run down. A few hours of spasmodic suffering followed, very trying to those who watched by; but suddenly, about four on the morning of October 13th, 1845, the silver cord was loosed, the pitcher broken at the fountain, and the spirit returned to God who gave it.

In a quiet grave at Barking, by the side of the little child whom she had loved and lost, years before, rest Elizabeth Fry's mortal remains. "God buries His workers, but carries on His work." The peculiar work which made her name and life so famous has grown and ripened right up to the present hour. In this, "her name liveth for evermore."

Since the days when John Howard, Elizabeth Fry and other prison reformers first commenced to grapple with the great problems of how to treat criminals, many, animated by the purest motives, have followed in the same path. To Captain Maconochie, perhaps, is due the system of rewards awarded to convicts who manifest a desire to amend, and show by their exemplary conduct that they are anxious to regain once more a fair position in society. Some anonymous writers have recently treated the public to books bearing on the convict system of our country; and professedly written, as they are, by men who have endured longer or shorter periods of penal servitude, their opinions and suggestions certainly count for something. The author ofFive Years' Penal Servitudeseems to entertain very decided opinions upon the present system and its faults. He speaks strongly againstlongsentences for first offences, but urges that they should be made more severe. He thinks that short sentences, made as severe as possible, consistent with safety to life, would act as a deterrent more effectually than the long punishments, which are, to a certain degree, mild to all well-conducted prisoners. He also most strongly advocates separation of prisoners; insisting that "the mixing of prisoners together is radically bad, and should at all costs be done away with. Men who are imprisoned for first offences, whether it be in a county jail or a convict prison, should most certainly be kept perfectly distinct from 'second-timers,' and not on any account be brought into contact with old offenders, who, in too many cases, simply complete their education in vice." He further states, in a concise form, what, in his estimation, should be the aim of all penal measures. 1st. The punishment of those who have transgressed the laws of the country, and the deterring others from crime; 2d. The getting rid of the troublesome and criminal class of the population; 3d. The doing of this in the most efficient and least costly way to the tax-paying British public. He even quotes the opinion that New Guinea would be suitable as a place of disposal for the convict class. But many and good reasons have been given against shipping off criminals to be pests to other people; this system has been already tried, and failed to a large extent, although it certainly had redeeming features. Looking at the matter all round, it seems utterly impossible to devise a convict system which shall meet fairly and justly all cases. Could some system be set in operation which should afford opportunity for the thoughtless and unwary criminal, who has heedlessly fallen into temptation, to retrace his steps and attain once more the height whence he has fallen, it would be a boon to society. On the other hand, the members of the really criminal class only anticipate liberty in order to use it for fresh crime, for, in their opinion, the shame lies in detection, not in sinning. What can be done with such but to deal stringently with them as with enemies against society? This writer can fully bear out Mrs. Fry's emphatic recommendations as to the imperative necessity that exists for complete separation and classification of the prisoners, in all our penal establishments. Association of the prisoners, one with another, only carries on and completes their criminal and vicious education.

There is, however, a generalconsensusof opinion as to the desirability of reformatory, rather than punitive measures, being dealt out to children and very young persons. This system has, in almost every case, been found to work well. The authors ofThe Jail Cradle, Who Rocks It?andIn Prison and Out, have dealt with the problem of juvenile crime—and not in vain. From the latter work, the following paragraph proves that in this matter, as in many others, Germany is abreast of the age:—

In Germany, no child under twelve years of age can suffer a penal sentence. Between twelve and eighteen years of age, youthful criminals are free to declare whether, while committing the offense, they were fully aware of their culpability against the laws of their country. In every case, every term of imprisonment above one month is carried out, not in a jail, but in an institution specially set apart and adapted for old offenders. These institutions serve not only for the purpose of punishment, but also provide for the education of the prisoners,the neglect of education being recognized as one of the chief sources of crime.

Mrs. Fry dealt with women principally, and it was only in a very limited degree that she could benefit the children of these fallen ones. Still there can be no doubt that she did a large service to society in taking possession of them and educating them while with their mothers. What that work involved has been fully told in the preceding pages; its results no pen can compute. Woman-like, she aimed at the improvement of her own sex; but the reform which she inaugurated did not stop there. Like a circle caused by the descent of a pebble into a lake, it widened and extended and spread until she and her work became household words among all classes of society, and in all civilized countries. Most women would have shrunk back appalled at the terrible scene of degradation which Newgate presented when she first entered its wards as a visitor; others would have deemed it impossible to accomplish anything, save under the auspices of Government, and by the aid of public funds. Not thus did she regard the matter, but with earnest, oft-repeated endeavors, she set herself to stem the tide of sin and suffering to be found at that period in Government jails, and so successfully that a radical change passed over the whole system before she died. Probably it is not too much to say that no laborer in the cause of prison reform ever won a larger share of success. Certainly none ever received a larger meed of reverential love.

ByA. MARY F. ROBINSON.

One vol. 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00.

"Miss Robinson has written a fascinating biography.... Emily Brontë is interesting, not because she wrote 'Wuthering Heights,' but because of her brave, baffled, human life, so lonely, so full of pain, but with a great hope shining beyond all the darkness, and a passionate defiance in bearing more than the burdens that were laid upon her. The story of the three sisters is infinitely sad, but it is the ennobling sadness that belongs to large natures cramped and striving for freedom to heroic, almost desperate, work, with little or no result. The author of this intensely interesting, sympathetic, and eloquent biography, is a young lady and a poet, to whom a place is given in a recent anthology of living English poets, which is supposed to contain only the best poems of the best writers."—Boston Daily Advertiser."Miss Robinson had many excellent qualifications for the task she has performed in this little volume, among which may be named, an enthusiastic interest in her subject and a real sympathy with Emily Brontë's sad and heroic life. 'To represent her as she was,' says Miss Robinson, 'would be her noblest and most fitting monument.'... Emily Brontë here becomes well known to us and, in one sense, this should be praise enough for any biography."—New York Times."The biographer who finds such material before him as the lives and characters of the Brontë family need have no anxiety as to the interest of his work. Characters not only strong but so uniquely strong, genius so supreme, misfortunes so overwhelming, set in its scenery so forlornly picturesque, could not fail to attract all readers, if told even in the most prosaic language. When we add to this, that Miss Robinson has told their storynotin prosaic language, but with a literary style exhibiting all the qualities essential to good biography, our readers will understand that this life of Emily Brontë is not only as interesting as a novel, but a great deal more interesting than most novels. As it presents most vividly a general picture of the family, there seems hardly a reason for giving it Emily's name alone, except perhaps for the masterly chapters on 'Wuthering Heights,' which the reader will find a grateful condensation of the best in that powerful but somewhat forbidding story. We know of no point in the Brontë history—their genius, their surroundings, their faults, their happiness, their misery, their love and friendships, their peculiarities, their power, their gentleness, their patience, their pride,—which Miss Robinson has not touched upon with conscientiousness and sympathy."—The Critic."'Emily Brontë' is the second of the 'Famous Women Series,' which Roberts Brothers, Boston, propose to publish, and of which 'George Eliot' was the initial volume. Not the least remarkable of a very remarkable family, the personage whose life is here written, possesses a peculiar interest to all who are at all familiar with the sad and singular history of herself and her sister Charlotte. That the author, Miss A. Mary F. Robinson, has done her work with minute fidelity to facts as well as affectionate devotion to the subject of her sketch, is plainly to be seen all through the book."—Washington Post.

"Miss Robinson had many excellent qualifications for the task she has performed in this little volume, among which may be named, an enthusiastic interest in her subject and a real sympathy with Emily Brontë's sad and heroic life. 'To represent her as she was,' says Miss Robinson, 'would be her noblest and most fitting monument.'... Emily Brontë here becomes well known to us and, in one sense, this should be praise enough for any biography."—New York Times.

"The biographer who finds such material before him as the lives and characters of the Brontë family need have no anxiety as to the interest of his work. Characters not only strong but so uniquely strong, genius so supreme, misfortunes so overwhelming, set in its scenery so forlornly picturesque, could not fail to attract all readers, if told even in the most prosaic language. When we add to this, that Miss Robinson has told their storynotin prosaic language, but with a literary style exhibiting all the qualities essential to good biography, our readers will understand that this life of Emily Brontë is not only as interesting as a novel, but a great deal more interesting than most novels. As it presents most vividly a general picture of the family, there seems hardly a reason for giving it Emily's name alone, except perhaps for the masterly chapters on 'Wuthering Heights,' which the reader will find a grateful condensation of the best in that powerful but somewhat forbidding story. We know of no point in the Brontë history—their genius, their surroundings, their faults, their happiness, their misery, their love and friendships, their peculiarities, their power, their gentleness, their patience, their pride,—which Miss Robinson has not touched upon with conscientiousness and sympathy."—The Critic.

"'Emily Brontë' is the second of the 'Famous Women Series,' which Roberts Brothers, Boston, propose to publish, and of which 'George Eliot' was the initial volume. Not the least remarkable of a very remarkable family, the personage whose life is here written, possesses a peculiar interest to all who are at all familiar with the sad and singular history of herself and her sister Charlotte. That the author, Miss A. Mary F. Robinson, has done her work with minute fidelity to facts as well as affectionate devotion to the subject of her sketch, is plainly to be seen all through the book."—Washington Post.

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