Elizabeth Fry Part 8

Mrs. Fry held quite as decided opinions upon lunatic asylums and their keepers. It was something terrible to her to know that poor demented creatures lay pining, chained and ill-treated, in dungeons; knowing no will but the caprice of their keepers. She spared no efforts to improve their condition; by tongue and pen she sought to enforce new principles and modes of action, in relation to lunatics, into the mind of those who had to govern them. So incessant were her labors to attain the ends she had set before her, that there was not a country in Europe which she did not influence. Almost daily communications were coming in from France, Denmark, Germany, Russia, Switzerland, and other countries, detailing the success of the new plans which she had introduced and recommended to the respective Governments. A regular correspondence was kept up between her and Mr. Venning of St. Petersburg, by order of the Empress of Russia, who took the greatest interest in the benevolent enterprise. From some letters given in the _Memoirs of Mrs. Fry_ it seems that the Empress felt a true Womanly compa.s.sion for the inmates of the Government Lunatic Asylum, and inaugurated a system of more rational treatment. How far her influence on behalf of the imprisoned and insane was induced and fostered by the English Quakeress, was never fully known until after her death, when a most interesting letter, addressed to the children of Mrs. Fry, was published. This letter was sent to them by Mr.

John Venning, brother to Walter Venning, who had opened the correspondence, but who had, like the benevolent lady with whom it was maintained, "pa.s.sed over to the majority." From this correspondence it was found that the Emperor and Empress of Russia, the Princess Sophia Mestchersky, Prince Galitzin, and many ladies of high rank, had been stirred up to befriend those who had fallen under the strong arm of the law, and to make their captivity more productive, if possible, of good results.

Not only so, but lunatics, more helpless than prisoners, had been cared for, as the outcome of Mrs. Fry's visits to St. Petersburg, and her communications with the powers that were at that era. With these preliminary words of explanation, the subjoined letter speaks for itself:--

I cheerfully comply with your desire to be furnished with some of the most striking and useful points contained in your late beloved mother's correspondence with myself in Russia, relative to the improvement of the Lunatic Asylum in St. Petersburg. I the more readily engage in this duty, because I am persuaded that its publication may, under the Lord's blessing, prove of great service to many such inst.i.tutions on the Continent, as well as in Great Britain.... I begin by stating that her correspondence was invaluable, as regarded the treatment and management of both prisoners and insane people. It was the fruit of her own rich practical experience communicated with touching simplicity, and it produced lasting benefits to these inst.i.tutions in Russia. In 1827, I informed your dear mother that I had presented to the Emperor Nicholas a statement of the defects of the Government Lunatic Asylum, which could only be compared to our own old Bedlam in London, fifty years since; and that the dowager Empress had sent for me to the Winter Palace, when she most kindly, and I may say, joyfully, informed me that she and her august son, the Emperor, had visited together this abode of misery. They were convinced of the necessity, not only of having a new building, but also of a complete reform in the management of the insane; and further that the Emperor had requested her to take it under her own care, and to appoint me the governor of it. I must observe that in the meantime the old asylum was immediately improved, as much as the building allowed, for the introduction of your dear mother's admirable system. Shortly after, I had the pleasure of accompanying the Empress to examine a palace-like house--Prince Sherbatoff's--having above two miles of garden, and a fine stream of water running through the grounds, situated only five miles from St. Petersburg.

The next day an order was given to purchase it. I was permitted to send the plan of this immense building to your dear mother for her inspection, as well as to ask from her hints for its improvement.

Two extensive wings were recommended, and subsequently added for dormitories. The wings cost about 15,000, and in addition to this sum from the Government, the Emperor, who was always ready to promote the cause of benevolence, gave three thousand pounds for cast-iron window-frames, recommended by your dear mother, as the clumsy iron bars which had been used in the old inst.i.tution had induced many a poor inmate, when looking at them, to say with a sigh, "Sir, prison, prison!" Your dear mother, also strongly recommended that all, except the violent lunatics, should dine together at a table covered with a cloth, and furnished with plates and spoons.

The former method of serving out the food was most disgusting. This new plan delighted the Empress, and I soon received an order to meet her at the asylum. On her arrival she requested that a table should be covered, and then desired me to go round and invite the inmates to come and dine. Sixteen came immediately, and sat down.

The Empress approached the table, and ordered one of the upper servants to sit at the head of it and to ask a blessing. When the servant arose to do this, they all stood up. The soup, with small pieces of meat, was then regularly served; and as soon as dinner was finished, they all rose up spontaneously and thanked the Empress for her motherly kindness. I saw that the kind Empress was deeply moved, and turning to me she said, "_Mon Cher_, this is one of the happiest days of my life." The next day the number increased at table, and so it continued increasing. After your dear mother's return from Ireland, where she had been visiting, among other inst.i.tutions, the lunatic asylums, she wrote me a letter on the great importance of supplying the lunatics with the Scriptures.

This letter deserved to be written in letters of gold; I sent it to the Imperial family; it excited the most pleasing feelings and marked approbation. The court physician, His Excellency Dr. Riehl, a most enlightened and devoted philanthropist, came to me for a copy of it. It removed all the difficulty there had been respecting giving the Holy Scriptures to the inmates. I was therefore permitted to furnish them with copies, in their various languages.

It may be useful to state the result of this measure, which was considered by some to be a wild and dangerous proceeding. I soon found groups collected together, listening patiently and quietly to one of their number reading the New Testament. Instead of disturbing their minds, it soothed and delighted them. I have witnessed a poor lunatic, a Frenchman, during an interval of returning reason, reading the New Testament in his bed-room, with tears running down his cheeks; also a Russian priest, a lunatic, collected a number together, while he read to them the Word of G.o.d.

On one occasion I witnessed a most interesting scene. On entering the inst.i.tution, I found a young woman dying; her eyes were closed, and she was apparently breathing her last breath. I ordered one of the servants of the inst.i.tution to read very loud to her that verse, "For G.o.d so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Dr. K---- observed, "Sir, she is almost dead, and it is useless." On my urging its being done, lo! to the astonishment of all present, she opened her eyes and smiled. I said: "Is it sweet, my dear?" She nodded a.s.sent. "Shall it be read to you again?" A smile and nod of the head followed. She evidently possessed her reason at that moment, and who can trace, or limit, the operation of the Holy Spirit, on the reading of G.o.d's own Word even in her circ.u.mstances?

When I received a letter from your mother I always wrote it out in French, and presented it in that language to the Empress; and when she had read it, it was very encouraging to see with what alacrity she ordered one of her secretaries to translate it into Russian, and then deliver it to me to be conveyed to the asylum, and entered into the journal there, for immediate adoption. I remember on one occasion, taking a list of rules, at least fourteen in number, and the same day were confirmed by the Empress. These rules introduced the following important arrangements; viz., the treating the inmates, as far as possible as sane persons, both in conversation and manners toward them; to allow them as much liberty as possible; to engage them daily to take exercise in the open air; to allow them to wear their own clothes and no uniform prison-dress; also to break up the inhuman system of permitting the promiscuous idle curiosity of the public, so that no one was allowed to see them without permission; a room, on entering the asylum, was prepared for one at a time, on certain days, to see their relations. The old cruel system drew forth many angry expressions from the poor lunatics: "Are we, then, wild beasts, to be gazed at?"

The Empress made a present to the inst.i.tution of a piano-forte; it had also a hand-organ, which pleased the poor inmates exceedingly.

On one occasion the Empress, on entering the asylum, observed that the inmates appeared unusually dull, when she called them near, and played on the hand-organ herself an enlivening tune.

Another important rule of your mother's was, most strictly to fulfill whatever you promise to any of the inmates, and, above all, to exercise patience, gentleness, kindness, and love towards them; therefore, to be exceedingly careful as to the character of the keepers you appoint. These are some of the pleasing results of your mother's work. The dowager Empress, on one occasion, conversing about your mother, said: "How much I should like to see that excellent woman, Madame Fry, in Russia;" and often did I indulge that wish. What a meeting it would have been, between two such devoted philanthropists as your mother and the dowager Empress, who was daily devoting her time and fortune to doing good.... Although the Empress was in her sixty-ninth year, I had the felicity of accompanying her in no less than eleven of her personal visits to the Lunatic Asylum, say from February to October, 1828. On the 24th of October she died, to the deep-felt regret of the whole empire.

Rozoff, a young lunatic, as soon as he heard it, burst into tears.

She would visit each lunatic, when bodily afflicted, and send an easy chair for one, and nicely-dressed meat for others; and weekly send from the palace wine, coffee, tea, sugar and fruit for their use.

Among the many striking features in your mother's correspondence, her love to the Word of G.o.d, and her desire for its general circulation, were very apparent. Evidently, that sacred book was the fountain whence she herself derived all that strength and grace to carry on her work of faith and labor of love, which her Divine Master so richly blessed.... In December 1827, when accompanying the Emperor Nicholas through the new Litoffsky Prison, he was not only well pleased to find every cell fully supplied with the Scriptures--the rich result of his having confirmed the late Emperor Alexander's orders to give the Scriptures gratis to all the prisoners--but on seeing some Jews in the prison he said to me: "I hope you also furnish these poor people with them, that they may become Christians; I pity them." I witnessed a most touching scene on the Emperor's entering the debtors' room; three old, venerable, gray-headed men fell on their knees and cried, "Father, have mercy on us!" The Emperor stretched out his hand in the peculiar grandeur of his manner, and said: "Rise; all your debts are paid; from this moment you are free"; without knowing the amount of the debts, one of which was very considerable. I hope this feeble attempt to detail a little of your dear mother's useful work may be acceptable, leaving you to make what use of it you think proper.

Such testimonies as these must have been peculiarly grateful to Mrs.

Fry's family, because it is natural to desire not only success in any good work, but also grateful remembrance and appreciation, of it.

Sometimes, however, the reverse was the case; even those whom she had endeavored to serve had turned out ungrateful, impudent and hardened.

Yet her loving pity followed even them: still, like the Lord whom she served, she loved them in spite of their repulsiveness and ingrat.i.tude.

And when some notably ungrateful things were reported to her respecting the female convicts on board the _Amphitrite_, she only prayed and sorrowed for them the more. Especially was this the case when she heard that the ship had gone down on the French coast, bearing to their tomb beneath the sad sea waves, the 120 women, with their children, being conveyed in her to New South Wales. Not one hard thought did she entertain of them: all was charity, sorrow and tenderness. And if for one little moment her new theories as to the treatment of criminals seemed to be broken down, never for an instant did she set them aside.

She knew that perfection could only be attained after many long years of trial and probation. While undermining the old ideas, she set herself an equally gigantic task in establishing the new.

CHAPTER XII.

MRS. FRY IN DOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS LIFE.

Hitherto our little monograph has dealt mainly with Mrs. Fry's _public_ life and work. Possibly, however, the reader may now feel curious to know how she bore the strain of private responsibilities; how as a wife, mother, neighbor, and Christian, she performed the duties which usually fall to people in those positions. It does not appear that she was wanting in any of them.

As the wife of a city merchant, as the mistress, until reverses came, of a large household, as the mother of a numerous family of boys and girls, and as the plain Friend, and minister among Friends, she seems to have fulfilled the duties which devolved upon her with quiet, cheerful simplicity, persevering conscientiousness, and prayerful earnestness.

She was much the same in sunshine and in shadow, in losses and in prosperity; her only anxiety was to do what was right. From the revelations of her journal we find that self-examination caused her frequently to put into the form of writing, the questions which hara.s.sed her soul. There can be no reasonable doubt that she _was_ hara.s.sed as all over-conscientious people are--with the fear and consciousness that her duties were not half done. How few of this cla.s.s ever contemplate themselves or their works with anything like satisfaction! A short extract from her journal penned during the first years of her wedded life affords the key to this self-examination, a self-examination which was strictly continued as long as reason held her sway. This entry is ent.i.tled "Questions for Myself."

"First.--Hast thou this day been honest and true in performing thy duty towards thy Creator in the first place, and secondly towards thy fellow-creatures; or hast thou sophisticated and flinched?

"Second.--Hast thou been vigilant in frequently pausing, in the hurry and career of the day, to see who thou art endeavoring to serve: whether thy Maker or thyself? And every time that trial or temptation a.s.sailed thee, didst thou endeavor to look steadily at the Delivering Power, even to Christ who can do all things for thee?

"Third.--Hast thou endeavored to perform thy relative duties faithfully; been a tender, loving, yielding wife, where thy own will and pleasure were concerned, a tender yet steady mother with thy children, making thyself quickly and strictly obeyed, but careful in what thou requirest of them; a kind yet honest mistress, telling thy servants their faults, when thou thinkest it for their or thy good, but never unnecessarily worrying thyself or them about trifles, and to everyone endeavoring to do as thou wouldst be done unto?"

A life governed by these principles, and measured by these rules, was not likely to be otherwise than strictly, severely, nervously good. We use the word "nervously" because here and there, up and down the pages of her journal are scattered numerous pa.s.sages full of such questions as the above. None ever peered into their hearts, or searched their lives more relentlessly than she did. Upright, self-denying, just, pure, charitable, "hoping all things, bearing all things, believing all things," she judged herself by a stricter law than she judged others; condemning in herself what she allowed to be expedient, if not lawful, in others, and laying bare her inmost heart before her G.o.d. After she had done all that she judged it to be her duty to do, she humbly and tearfully acknowledged herself to be one of the Lord's most "unprofitable servants." It would be useless to endeavor to measure such a life by any rules of worldly polity or fashions. An extract written at this time, relative to the welfare and treatment of servants, may be of use in showing how she permitted her sound sense and practical daily piety to decide for her in emergencies and anxieties growing out of the "mistress and servant" question. "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: 'As ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' I believe in striving to do so we shall not take them out of their station in life, but endeavor to render them happy and contented in it, and be truly their friends, though not their familiars or equals, as to the things of this life. We have reason to believe that the difference in our stations is ordered by a wiser than ourselves, who directs us how to fill our different places; but we must endeavor never to forget that in the best sense we are all one, and, though our paths may be different, we have all souls equally valuable, and have all the same work to do, which, if properly considered, should lead us to have great sympathy and love, and also a constant care for their welfare, both here and hereafter. We greatly misunderstand each other (I mean servants and masters in general); 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. Masters and mistresses are greatly deficient, I think, in a general way; and so are most servants towards them; it is for both to keep in view strictly to do unto others as they would be done unto, and also to remember that we are indeed all one with G.o.d."

As the mother of a large family, Mrs. Fry endeavored to do her duty faithfully and lovingly. Twelve sons and daughters were given to her, trained by her more or less, with reference not only to their temporal welfare, but their spiritual also. In all the years of motherhood many cares attached themselves to her. Illness, the deaths of near relatives, and of one little child, the marriage of some of her children out of the Society of Friends, losses in business, and consequent reduction of household comforts and pleasures, the censure which sometimes followed her most disinterested acts, and the exaggerated praise of others, all combined to try her character and her spirit. Through it all she moved and lived, like one who was surrounded with an angelic company of witnesses; desirous only of laying up such a life-record that she could with calmness face it in "that day for which all other days are made."

One after another the little fledglings came to the home-nest, to be cared for, trained up, and fitted for their peculiar niches in life. But in 1815, a new sorrow came to the fireside; the angel reaper Death cut down the little Elizabeth, the seventh child, nearly five years of age, and the special darling of the band. Her illness was very short, scarcely lasting a week; but even during that illness her docile, intelligent spirit exhibited itself in new and more endearing phases.

Death was only antic.i.p.ated during the last few hours of life, and when the fatal issue appeared but too certain the parents sat in agonized silence, watching the darling whom they could not save. Mrs. Fry begged earnestly of the Great Disposer of life and death that he would spare the child, if consonant with His holy will; but when the end came, and the child had pa.s.sed "through the pearly gates into the city" she uttered an audible thanksgiving that she was at last where neither sin, sorrow, nor death could have any dominion. No words can do justice to this event like her own, written in her journal at that time. The pages recall all a mother's love and yearning tenderness, together with a Christian's strong confidence:--

It has pleased Almighty and Infinite Wisdom to take from us our most dear and tenderly-beloved child little Betsy, between four and five years old. In receiving her, as well as giving her back again, we have, I believe, been enabled to bless the Sacred Name.

She was a very precious child, of much wisdom for her years, and, I can hardly help believing, much grace; liable to the frailty of childhood, at times she would differ with the little ones and rather loved her own way, but she was very easy to lead though not one to be driven. She had most tender affections, a good understanding for her years, and a remarkably staid and solid mind.

Her love was very strong, and her little attentions great to those she loved, and remarkable in her kindness to servants, poor people, and all animals; she had much feeling for them; but what was more, the bent of her mind was remarkably toward serious things. It was a subject she loved to dwell upon: she would often talk of "Almighty G.o.d," and almost everything that had connection with Him. On Third Day, after some suffering of body from great sickness, she appeared wonderfully relieved ... and, began by telling me how many hymns and stories she knew, with her countenance greatly animated, a flush on her cheeks, her eyes very bright, and a smile of inexpressible content, almost joy. I think she first said, with a powerful voice,--

How glorious is our Heavenly King, Who reigns above the sky;

and then expressed how beautiful it was, and how the little children that die stand before Him; but she did not remember all the words of the hymn, nor could I help her. She then mentioned other hymns, and many sweet things ... her heart appeared inexpressibly to overflow with love. Afterwards she told me one or two droll stories, and made clear and bright comments as she went along; then stopped a little while, and said in the fullness of her heart, and the joy of a little innocent child.... "Mamma, I love everybody better than myself, and I love thee better than anybody, and I love Almighty much better than thee, and I hope thee loves Almighty much better than me."... I appeared to satisfy her that it was so. This was on Third Day morning, and she was a corpse on Fifth Day evening; but in her death there was abundant cause for thanksgiving; prayer appeared indeed to be answered, as very little if any suffering seemed to attend her, and no struggle at last, but her breathing grew more and more slow and gentle, till she ceased to breathe at all. During the day, being from time to time strengthened in prayer, in heart, and in word, I found myself only led to ask for her that she might be for ever with her G.o.d, whether she remained much longer in time or not; but, that if it pleased Infinite Wisdom her sufferings might be mitigated, and as far as it was needful for her to suffer that she might be sustained. This was marvellously answered beyond anything we could expect from the nature of the complaint.... I desire never to forget this favor, but, if it please Infinite Wisdom, to be preserved from repining or unduly giving way to lamentation for losing so sweet a child.... I have been permitted to feel inexpressible pangs at her loss, though at first it was so much like partaking with her in joy and glory, that I could not mourn if I would, only rejoice almost with joy unspeakable and full of glory. But if very deep baptism was afterwards permitted me, like the enemy coming in as a flood; but even here a way for escape has been made, my supplication answered ... and the bitter cup sweetened; but at others my loss has touched me in a manner almost inexpressible, to awake and find my much-loved little girl so totally fled from my view, so many pleasant pictures marred. As far as I am concerned, I view it as a separation from a sweet source of comfort and enjoyment, but surely not a real evil. Abundant comforts are left me if it please my kind and Heavenly Father to provide me power to enjoy them, and continually in heart to return him thanks for His unutterable loving kindness to my tenderly-beloved little one, who had so sweet and easy a life and so tranquil a death.... My much-loved husband and I have drunk this cup together in close sympathy and unity of feeling. It has at times been very bitter to us both; but as an outward alleviation, we have, I believe, been in measure each other's joy and helpers. The sweet children have also tenderly sympathized; brothers, sisters, servants, and friends, have been very near and dear in showing their kindness not only to the darling child, but to me, and to us all.... We find outwardly and inwardly, "the Lord did provide."

The little lost Betsey, who "just came to show how sweet a flower for Paradise could bloom," was thenceforth a sacred memory; for from that day they had a connecting link between their household and the skies.

Very frequently, even in the midst of her multifarious engagements, her thoughts wandered off to the little grave in Barking burying-ground, where rested the remains of the dear child, and, perchance, a tenderer tone crept into her voice as she dealt with the outcast children of prisons and reformatories. Soon after this event the elder boys and girls went to school among their relatives, and only the youngest were left at Plashet House with her. As a new baby came within six months after little Betsey's death, the motherly hands were still full. She found, however, time to write letters of wise and mother-like counsels.

My much-loved girls:--Your letters received last evening gave us much pleasure. I anxiously hope that you will now do your utmost in whatever respects your education, not only on your own account, but for our sake. I look forward to your return with so much comfort, as useful and valuable helpers to me, which you will be all the more if you get forward yourselves. I see quite a field of useful service and enjoyment for you, should we be favored to meet under comfortable circ.u.mstances in the spring. I mean that you should have a certain department to fill in the house, amongst the children and the poor, as well as your own studies and enjoyments; I think there was not often a brighter opening for two girls.

Plashet is, after all, such a home, it now looks sweetly; and your little room is almost a temptation to me to take it for a sitting-room for myself, it is so pretty and so snug; it is newly furnished, and looks very pleasant indeed. The poor, and the school, will, I think, be glad to have you home, for help is wanted in these things. Indeed, if your hearts are but turned the right way, you may, I believe, be made instruments of much good, and I shall be glad to have the day come that I may introduce you into prisons and hospitals.... This appears to me to be your present business--to give all diligence to your present duties; and I cannot help believing, if this be the case, that the day will come when you will be brought into much usefulness.

As the years rolled on, her boys went to school also; but they were followed by a loving mother's counsels. From her correspondence with them we cull a few extracts to prove how constant and tender was her care over them, and how far-reaching her anxieties. Two or three specimens will suffice.

Upon the departure of each of her boys for boarding-school she wrote out and gave him a copy of the following rules. They are valuable, as showing how carefully she watched over their mental and moral welfare.

"1st. Be regular, strict in attending to religious duties; and do not allow other boys around thee to prevent thy having some portion of time for reading at least a text of Scripture, meditation and prayer; and if it appear to be a duty, flinch not from bowing the knee before them, as a mark of thy allegiance to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Attend diligently when the holy Scriptures are read, or to any other religious instruction, and endeavor in Meeting to seek after a serious waiting state of mind, and to watch unto prayer. Let First Day be well employed in reading proper books, etc., but also enjoy the rest of innocent recreation, afforded in admiring the beauties of nature; for I believe this is right in the ordering of a kind Providence that there should be some rest and recreation in it. Show a proper, bold, and manly spirit in maintaining among thy play-fellows a religious character, and strict attention to all religious duties. Remember these texts to strengthen thee in it. 'For whosoever shall be ashamed of Me, and My words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when He shall come in His own glory, in His Father's, and of the holy angels.' 'But I say unto you, whosoever shall confess Me before men, him shall the Son of Man also confess before the angels of G.o.d; but he that denieth Me before man shall be denied before the angels of G.o.d.' Now, the sooner the dread laugh of the world loses its power, the better for you.... But strongly as I advise thee thus faithfully maintaining thy principles and doing thy duty, I would have thee very careful of either judging or reproving others; for it takes a long time to get the beam out of our own eye, before we can see clearly to take the mote out of our brother's eye. There is for one young in years, much greater safety in preaching to others by example, than in word, or doing what is done in an upright, manly spirit, 'unto the Lord, and not unto man.'

"2d. I shall not speak of moral conduct, which, if religious principles be kept to, we may believe will be good; but I shall give certain hints that may point out the temptations to which schools are particularly liable. I have observed a want of strict integrity in school-boys, as it respects their schoolmasters and teachers--a disposition to cheat them, to do that behind their backs which they would not do before their faces, and so having two faces. Now, this is a subject of the utmost importance--to maintain truth and integrity upon all points. Be not double-minded in any degree, but faithfully maintain, not only the upright principle on religious ground, but also the brightest honor, according to the maxims of the world. I mourn to say I have seen the want of this bright honor, not only in school-boys, but in some of our highly-professing society; and my belief is that it cannot be too strictly maintained, or too early begun. I like to see it in small things, and in great; for it marks the upright man. I may say that I abhor anything like being under-handed or double-dealing; but let us go on the right and n.o.ble principle of doing to others as we would have others do to us; therefore, in all transactions, small and great, maintain strictly the correct, upright, and most honorable practice. I have heard of boys robbing their neighbors' fruit, etc.; I may truly say that I believe there are very few in the present day would do such things, but no circ.u.mstances can make this other than a shameful deviation from all honest and right principles. My belief is, that such habits begun in youth end mostly in great incorrectness in future life, if not in gross sin; and that no excuse can be pleaded for such actions, for sin is equally sin, whether committed by the school-boy or those of mature years, which is too apt to be forgotten, and that punishment _will_ follow."

In a letter to her eldest son she begs him to try to be a learned man, not to neglect the modern languages; but so to improve his time at school that he may become in manhood a power for good; and then, by various thoughtful kindnesses manifests her unwearying care for his welfare.

She gratefully acknowledges, in another communication to a sister, the a.s.sistance which that sister rendered in educating some of the elder girls, for a time, so enabling Mrs. Fry herself to be set free for the mult.i.tude of other duties awaiting her.

As years rolled by, an acute cause of sorrow to her was the marriage of one, then another of her numerous family out of the Society. They mostly married into families connected with the Church of England; but as the Society of Friends disunite from membership all who marry out of it, and as parents are blamed for permitting such unions, her sorrow was somewhat heavy. She even antic.i.p.ated being cut off from the privilege of ministry in the Society; but to the credit of that Society, it does not appear that it silenced her in return for the forsaking, by her children, of "the old paths." Whether Quakerism was too old-fashioned and strict for the young people, or the attractions of families other than Friends more powerful, we cannot say. However, it seems that the young folks grew up to be useful and G.o.d-fearing in the main, so that the Church universal lost nothing by their transference into other communions.

When joy seems highest Then sorrow is nighest,

says the old rhyme. An experience of this sort came to Mrs. Fry. One of her children had just married an estimable member of the Society of Friends, and while rejoicing with the young couple, she appeared to be drawn out in thankfulness for the many mercies vouchsafed to her. Her cup seemed br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with joy; and after the bridal party had departed, one of her daughters came across the lawn to remark to her mother on the beauty of the scene, finishing by a reference to the temporal prosperity which was granted them. Mrs. Fry could do no other than acquiesce in the sentiments expressed, but added, with almost prophetic insight, "But I have remarked that when great outward prosperity is granted it is often permitted to precede great trials."

This was in the summer of 1828; before that year ended the family was struggling in the waves of adversity, losses, and trials--struggling, indeed, to preserve that honest name which had hitherto been the pride of Mr. Fry's firm.

One of the houses of business with which Mr. Fry was connected at this time failed, and his income was largely diminished. The house which he personally conducted was still able to meet all its obligations; but the blow in connection with this other firm was so staggering that they were forced to submit to the pressure of straitened means, at least for a time. We are told, indeed, by Mrs. Fry's daughters, that this failure "involved Mrs. Fry and her family in a train of sorrows and perplexities which tinged the remaining years of her life." The strict principles and the not less strict discipline of the Society of Friends rendered her course of action at that juncture very doubtful. Occupying the prominent positions she had before the nation--indeed before the world, for Mrs.

Fry's name was a household word--it seemed impossible to her upright spirit to face the usual Meeting on First Day. Her sensitive spirit winced acutely at the reproach which _might perchance_ be cast upon the name of religion; but after a prayerful pause she and her husband went, accompanied by their children--at least such of them as were then at home. She occupied her usual place at the Meeting, but the big tears rolling down her face in quick succession, testified to the sorrow and anguish which then became her lot. Yet before the session ended she rose, calmed herself, and spoke, most thrillingly, from the words, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him," while the listeners manifested their sympathy by tears and words of sorrow. In November of that sad year she wrote the following letter to one of her children, in reference to the trial:--

I do not like to pour out my sorrows too heavily upon thee, nor do I like to keep thee in the dark as to our real state. This is, I consider, one of the deepest trials to which we are liable; its perplexities are so great and numerous, its mortifications and humiliations so abounding, and its sorrows so deep. None can tell, but those who have pa.s.sed through it, the anguish of heart at times felt; but, thanks be to G.o.d, this extreme state of distress has not been very frequent, nor its continuance very long. I frequently find my mind in degree sheathed against the deep sorrows, and am enabled not to look so much at them; but there are also times when secondary things arise, such as parting with servants, schools, the poor around us, and our dear home. These things overwhelm me; indeed, I think naturally I have a very acute sense of the sorrow.

Then the bright side of the picture arises. I have found such help and strength in prayer to G.o.d, and highly mysterious as this dispensation may be in some points of view, yet I think I have frequently, if not generally, been able to say, "Not as I will, but as Thou wilt," and bow under it. All our children and children-in-law, my brothers and sisters, our many friends and servants, have been a strong consolation to me.