which was already well-nigh
filled. Two hundred and seven professed thieves were present. "Several
of the most experienced thieves were stationed at the door to prevent the
admission of any but thieves. Some four or five individuals, who were
not at first known, were subjected to examination, and only allowed to
remain on stating that they were, and being recognized as, members of the
dishonest fraternity; and before the proceedings of the evening commenced
the question was very carefully put, and repeated several times, whether
any one was in the room of whom others entertained doubts as to who he
was. The object of this care was, as so many of them were in danger of
'getting into trouble,' or, in other words, of being taken up for their
crimes, to ascertain if any who might betray them were present; and
another intention of this scrutiny was, to give those assembled, who
naturally would feel considerable fear, a fuller confidence in opening
their minds."

What a novel conference between the extremes of modern society! All that
is beautiful in refinement and education, moral symmetry and Christian
grace, contrasting with the squalor, the ignorance, the lifelong
depravity of men living "without God in the world,"--the pariahs of
civilization,--the moral lepers, at the sight of whom decency covers its
face, and cries out, "Unclean!" After a prayer had been offered, Lord
Ashley spoke at considerable length, making a profound impression on his
strange auditory as they listened to his plans of emigration, which
offered them an opportunity to escape from their miserable condition and
enter upon a respectable course of life. The hard heart melted and the
cold and cruel eye moistened. With one accord the wretched felons
responded to the language of Christian love and good-will, and declared
their readiness to follow the advice of their true friend. They looked
up to him as to an angel of mercy, and felt the malignant spirits which
had so long tormented them disarmed of all power of evil in the presence
of simple goodness. He stood in that felon audience like Spenser's Una
amidst the satyrs; unassailable and secure in the "unresistible might of
meekness," and panoplied in that "noble grace which dashed brute violence
with sudden adoration and mute awe."

Twenty years ago, when Elizabeth Fry ventured to visit those "spirits in
prison,"--the female tenants of Newgate,--her temerity was regarded with
astonishment, and