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 her Practical 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, for His sake, in His name, and by His word, 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 civilised 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-coloured silk cloak, and plain, borderless Quaker cap; a most benevolent countenance; Guido Madonna face, calm, benign. "I must make an enquiry; 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,