ess for the many mercies vouchsafed to her. Her
cup seemed brimming 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 th