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. They worked very hard, slept on boards, and were fed upon bread and dry beans. At night they were ranged in a long gallery, and in number from one hundred to two hundred, were all chained to the iron rod which ran the entire length of the gallery. By day they worked chained together in couples.

At Marseilles a new kind of prison was inspected by her; this was a conventual institution and refuge for female penitents, under the control of the nuns of the order of St. Charles, who to the three ordinary vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, added that of converting souls. Superintending ladies in the city, who bore the title of "directresses," were not even permitted to see the women immured there; indeed, only one was permitted to enter the building in order to look after the necessary repairs, and even she was strictly restrained from seeing a penitent or sister. It seemed hopeless in the face of these facts to expect admission, but Mrs. Fry's name and errand prevailed. Accompanied by one of these nominal directresses, she was admitted and shown into a large, plainly-furnished parlor. After she had waited some little time, the Lady Superior presented herself at the grating, and prepared to hear the communications of her visitors. In the course of the conversation which passed, it appeared that there were over one hundred penitents in the convent, who mostly became servants after their reclamation. It seemed that they "were not taught to read or write, neither was the least morsel of pencil, paper, pen, ink, or any other possible material for writing permitted, from the fear of their communicating with people without." The Superior admitted that portions of the Bible were suitable to the inmates, such as the Parables and Psalms, but said that as a whole the Scriptures were not fit to be put into the hands of people in general. Mrs. Fry departed from this "home of mystery and darkness," very unsatisfied and sad. She next visited a boys' prison, conducted by the Abbé Fisceaux, which excited her admiration.

At the "Maison Pénitentiaire" at Geneva, the arrangements appeared to be as complete as possible, and most praiseworthy. The treatment varied in severity, according to the guilt of the criminals, who were divided into four classes. They were in all cases there for long terms of imprisonment, but were allowed either Catholic or Protestant versions of the Scriptures, according to their faith. After paying short visits to Lausanne, Berne, and Zurich, the party returned home.

As her life passed on and infirmities grew apace, it seemed that Mrs. Fry's zeal and charity grew also, for she planned and schemed to do good with never-flagging delight. Early in 1840, she departed again for the Continent, accompanied this time by her brother, Samuel Gurney, and his daughter, by William Allen and Lucy Bradshaw. During this journey and a subsequent one, she had much intercourse with royal and noble personages. At Brussels they had a pleasant audience of the King, who held an interesting conversation with them on the state of Belgian prisons. A large prison for boys at Antwerp specially drew forth their commendations; it seemed admirably arranged and conducted, while every provision was made for the instruction and improvement of the lads. At Hameln, in Hanover, they found one of the opposite class, a men's prison, containing about four hundred inmates, but all heavily chained "to the ground, until they would confess their crimes, whether they had committed them or not." One wonders if this treatment still prevails in the Hameln of Robert Browning's ballad. At Hanover they waited on the Queen by special command, and during a long interview many interesting and important subjects were brought forward.

At Berlin they were received by royalty in the most cordial way. Mrs. Fry's niece, in a letter, gives a vivid account of the assembly at the royal palace specially invited to meet the Quakeress and her party.

The Princess William has been very desirous to give her sanction, as far as possible, to the Ladies' Committee for visiting the prison, that my aunt had been forming; and, to show her full approbation, had invited the Committee to meet her at her palace. So imagine about twenty ladies assembling here, at our hotel, at half-past twelve o'clock to-day, beautifully dressed; and, further fancy us all driving off and arriving at the palace. The Princess had also asked some of her friends, so we must have numbered about forty. Such a party of ladies, and only our friend Count Gröben to interpret. The Princess received us most kindly, and conducted us herself to the top of the room; we talked some time, whilst awaiting the arrival of other members of the royal family. The ladies walked about the suite of rooms for about half an hour, taking chocolate, and waiting for the Crown Princess, who soon arrived. The Princess Charles was also there, and the Crown Prince himself soon afterwards entered. I could not but long for a painter's eye to have carried away the scene. All of us seated in that beautiful room, our aunt in the middle of the sofa, the Crown Prince and Princess and the Princess Charles on her right; the Princess William, the Princess Marie, and the Princess Czartoryski on the left; Count Gröben sitting near her to interpret, the Countesses Böhlem and Dernath by her. I was sitting by the Countess Schlieffen, a delightful person, who is much interested in all our proceedings. A table was placed before our aunt, with pens, ink, and paper, like other committees, with the various rules our aunt and I had drawn up, and the Countess Böhlem had translated into German, and which she read to the assembly. After that my aunt gave a concise account of the societies in England, commencing every fresh sentence with "If the Prince and Princesses will permit." When business was over, my aunt mentioned some texts, which she asked leave to read. A German Bible was handed to Count Gröben, the text in Isaiah having been pointed out that our good aunt had wished for, "Is not this the fast that I have chosen," etc. The Count read it, after which our aunt said, "Will the Prince and Princesses allow a short time for prayer?" They all bowed assent and stood, while she knelt down and offered one of her touching, heart-felt prayers for them—that a blessing might rest on the whole place, from the King on his throne to the poor prisoner in the dungeon; and she prayed especially for the royal family; then for the ladies, that the works of their hands might be prospered in what they had undertaken to perform. Many of the ladies now withdrew, and we were soon left with the royal family. They all invited us to see them again, before we left Berlin, and took leave of us in the kindest manner.

One result of the reception accorded Mrs. Fry by royalty was the amelioration of the condition of the Lutherans. It came about in this way: in the course of her inquiries and intercourse among the people of the Prussian dominions, she discovered that adherents to the Lutheran Church were subject to much petty persecution on behalf of their faith. True they were not dealt with so cruelly as in former times, but frequently, at that very day, they were imprisoned, or suffered the loss of property because of their religious opinions. The matter lay heavily on Mrs. Fry's benevolent heart, and, seizing the opportunity, she spoke to the Crown Prince at the meeting just described, on the behalf of the persecuted Christians. The Crown Prince listened most attentively, and advised her to lay the matter before the King in any way she deemed proper. A petition was therefore drawn up by William Allen, translated into German, and with much fear and trembling presented to His Majesty. The following day the King's chaplain was sent bearing the "delightful intelligence" that the petition had been received; further, the King had said that "he thought the Spirit of God must have helped them to express themselves as they had done."

About this time we find the following entry in her journal: "I have been poorly enough to have the end of life brought closely before me, and to stimulate me in faith to do quickly what my Lord may require me." Accordingly, engagements and undertakings multiplied, and 1841 witnessed another brief visit to the continent of Europe. She seemed more and more to get the conviction that she must lose no time while about her Master's business, and such her prison, asylum and hospital labors most assuredly were. The shadows of life's evening were gathering around her, and heart and flesh beginning to fail, but no efforts of charity or mercy might be found lacking.

On this visit her brother, Joseph John Gurney, and two nieces accompanied her. Soon after arriving at the Hague, Mrs. Fry and Mr. Gurney, being introduced to the King by Prince Albert, were commanded to attend at a royal audience. This the travellers did, and, after about an hour's conversation, departed highly gratified. Another day they spent some time with the Princess of Orange, the Princess Frederick, and other members of the royal house: all these personages were anxious to hear about the work of prison reform, and to aid in it. After this they departed for Amsterdam, Bremen, and other places; but their journey resembled a triumphal progress more than anything else. The peasantry followed the carriage shouting Mrs. Fry's name, and begging for tracts. Sometimes, in order to get away, she was compelled to shake hands with them all, and speak a few words of kindly greeting.