After a visit in the north of England with her father and sisters,rnElizabeth received proposals of marriage from Mr. Joseph Fry of London.rnHis family, also Quakers, were wealthy and of good position; but forrnsome time Elizabeth seemed to hesitate about entering on married life.rnFar from looking on marriage as the goal of her ambition, as is thernfashion with many young women, she was divided in her mind as to thernrelative advantages of single and married life, as they might affectrnphilanthropic and religious work. After consultation with her friends,rnhowever, the offer was accepted, and on August 19th, 1800, when she wasrnlittle more than twenty years of age, she was married to Mr. Fry, in thernFriends' Meeting House, at Norwich. Very quickly after bidding herrnschool-children farewell, Mrs. Fry proceeded to St. Mildred's Court,rnLondon, her husband's place of business, where she commenced to take uprnthe first duties of wedded life, and where several of her children werernborn.rnrnThe family into which she married was a Quaker family of the strictestrnorder. So far from being singular by her orthodoxy of manners andrnappearance, she was, in the midst of the Frys, "the gay, instead of thernplain and scrupulous one of the family." For a little time shernexperienced some difficulty in reconciling her accustomed habits withrnthe straight tenets of her husband's household and connections, but inrnthe end succeeded. It seems singular that one so extremely conscientiousrnas Elizabeth Fry, should have been considered to fall behindhand in thatrnself-denying plainness of act and speech which characterized others; butrnso it was. And so determined was she to serve God according to herrnlight, that no mortification of the flesh was counted too severernprovided it would further the great end she had in view. Her extremernconscientiousness became manifest in lesser things; such, for instance,rnas anxiety to keep the strict truth, and that only, in all kinds ofrnconversation.rnrnThus, she wrote in her journal:--rnrn I was told by ---- he thought my manners had too much of thern courtier in them, which I know to be the case, for my dispositionrn leads me to hurt no one that I can avoid, and I do sometimes butrn just keep to the truth with people, from a natural yielding to themrn in such things as please them. I think doing so in moderation isrn pleasant and useful in society. It is among the things thatrn produce the harmony of society; for the truth must not be spokenrn out at all times, at least not the whole truth. Perhaps I amrn wrong--I do not know if I am--but it will not always do to tell ourrn minds.... I am one of those who try to serve God and Mammon. Now, for instance, if I wish to say anything I think right to anyone, Irn seldom go straight to the point, but mostly by some softening, round-about way, which, I fear, is very much from wishing to pleasern man more than his Maker!rnrnIt is evident that Elizabeth Fry dared to be singular; very possiblyrnonly such self-renouncing singularity could have borne such remarkablernfruits of philanthropy. It required some such independent, philosophicalrncharacter as hers to strike out a new path for charitable effort.rnrnDuring the continuance of the Yearly Meeting in London, the home in St.rnMildred's Court was made a house of entertainment for the Friends whorncame from all parts of the country. It was a curious sight to see thernolder Friends, clad in the quaint costume of that age, as they mingledrnwith the more fashionably or moderately dressed Quakers. The sightseersrnof London eighty years ago must have looked on amused at what theyrnconsidered the vagaries of those worthy folks. The old Quaker ladies arerndescribed as wearing at that date a close-fitting white cap, over whichrnwas placed a black hood, and out of doors a low-crowned broad beaverrnhat. The gowns were neatly made of drab camlet, the waists cut in longrnpeaks, and the skirts hanging in ample folds. For many years past thesernsomewhat antiquated garments have been discarded for soberrn"coal-scuttles," and silk dresses of black or gray, much to thernimprovement of the fair wearer's appearance. These Friends werernentertained at Mr. Fry's house heartily, and almost religiously. Andrndoubtless many people who were of the "salt of the earth" were numberedrnamong Mr. Fry's guests, while his young wife moved among them thernembodiment of refined lady-like hospitality and high principle.rnDoubtless, too, the quiet home-talk of these worthy folks was only onerndegree less solemn and sedate than their utterances at Yearly Meeting.rnrnMrs. Fry followed up her chosen path in ministering to the sick and poorrnamong the slums of London. She visited them at their homes, andrntraversed dirty courts and uninviting alleys in the quest of individualsrnneeding succor. Sometimes she was made the instrument of blessing; butrnat other times, like all philanthropists, she was deceived and imposedrnupon. One day a woman accosted her in the street, asking relief, andrnholding an infant who was suffering evidently with whooping-cough. Mrs.rnFry offered to go to the woman's house with the intention ofrninvestigating and relieving whatever real misery may have existed. Tornher surprise the mendicant slunk away as if unwilling to be visited; butrnMrs. Fry was determined to track her, and at last brought her to earth.rnThe room--a filthy, dirty, poverty-cursed one--contained a number ofrninfants in every conceivable stage of illness and misery.rnHorror-stricken, Mrs. Fry requested her own medical attendant to visitrnthis lazar-house; but on going thither next morning he found the womanrnand her helpless brood of infants gone. It then turned out that thisrnwoman "farmed" infants; deliberately neglected them till she succeededrnin killing them off, and then concealed their deaths in order torncontinue to receive the wretched pittances allowed for theirrnmaintenance. Such scenes and facts as these must have opened the eyes ofrnMrs. Fry to the condition of the poorest classes of that day, andrneducated her in self-denying labor on their behalf.rnrnShe also took an interest in educational matters, and formed anrnacquaintance with Joseph Lancaster, the founder of the Monitorialrnsystem, and quickly turned her talents to account in visiting thernworkhouse and school belonging to the Society of Friends at Islington.rnrnAbout this time, one sister was married to Mr. Samuel Hoare, andrnanother to Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton. Other members of her family passedrnaway from this life; among them her husband's mother, and a brother'srnwife. Some time later Mr. Fry senior, died, and this event caused thernremoval of the home from St. Mildred's Court to Plashet, in Essex, therncountry seat of the family. Writing of this change, she said: "I do notrnthink I have ever expressed the pleasure and comfort I find in a countryrnlife, both for myself and the dear children. It has frequently led me tornfeel grateful for the numerous benefits conferred, and I have alsorndesired that I may not rest in, nor too much depend on, any of thesernoutward enjoyments. It is certainly to me a time of sunshine."
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