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 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—­“We have felt! We are 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