t seemed more, however, to be directed
against her practice of distributing the Scriptures, than really against
her prison work.

At Nismes, under the escort of five armed soldiers, because of the known
violence of the desperadoes whom she visited, she inspected the Maison
Centrale, containing about 1,200 prisoners. She interceded for some of
them that they might be released from their fetters, undertaking at the
same time that the released prisoners should behave well. At a
subsequent visit, after holding a religious service among these felons,
the same men thanked her with tears of gratitude.

Much to her delight, she discovered a body of religionists who held
principles similar to those of the Society of Friends. They were
descendants of the Camisards, a sect of Protestants who took refuge in
the mountains of the Cevennes during the persecution which followed the
revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and were descended originally from
the Albigenses. Their three most distinguished pastors were Claude
Brousson, who took part in the sufferings at the general persecution of
the Protestants; Jean Cavalier, the soldier-pastor who led his flock to
battle, and who now sleeps in an English graveyard; and Antoine Court,
who formed this "church in the desert," into a more compact body. The
first of these pastors was hanged for "heresy" at Montpellier, in 1698;
but he, together with his successors, labored so devoutly and so
ardently, that the persecuted remnant rose from the dust and proved
themselves valiant for the truth as they had received and believed it.
It was not possible that the seed of a people which had learnt the
sermons preached to them off by heart, and written the texts on stone
tablets, in order to pass them from one mountain village to another,
could ever die out. The descendants of those martyrs had come down
through long generations, to nourish at last openly in Nismes. Mrs. Fry
recognized in them the kindred souls of faithful believers. After this,
the party spent a fortnight at a little retired village called
Congenies, where they welcomed many others of their own creed. A house
with "vaulted rooms, whitewashed and floored with stone," sheltered them
during this quaint sojourn, while the villagers vied with each other in
contributing to their comforts.

At Toulon they visited the "Bagnes," or prison for the galley slaves.
These poor wretches fared horribly, while the loss of life among them
was terrible.