be of an age capable of instruction. A small space was, therefore, set apart in the stern of the vessel for a school-room, and there, daily, under the tuition of one of the women better taught than the rest, these waifs of humanity learnt to read, knit, and sew. This slender stock of learning was better than none, wherewith to commence life at the Antipodes.
Almost daily, for five weeks, Mrs. Fry and her coadjutors visited the vessel, labouring to these good ends. Ultimately, however, the Maria had to sail, and many were the doubts and fears as to whether the good work begun would be carried on when away from English shores. No matron was there to superintend and to direct the women: if they continued in the path marked out for them, their poor human nature could not be so fallen after all. Mrs. Fry had a kind of religious service with the convicts the last time she visited them. She occupied a position near the door of the cabin, with the women facing her, and ranged on the quarter-deck, while the sailors occupied different positions in the rigging and on other vantage points. As Mrs. Fry read in a solemn voice some passages from her pocket-Bible, the sailors on board the other ships leant over to hear the sacred words. After the reading was done, she knelt down, and commended the party of soon-to-be exiles to God's mercy, while those for whom she prayed sobbed bitterly that they should see her face no more. Does it not recall the parting of Paul with the elders at Miletus? Doubtless the memory of that simple service was in after days often the only link between some of those women and goodness!
As time went on, many anxious remembrances and hopes were cast after the convicts who had been shipped to New South Wales. To her sorrow, she
