. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. But they were too late. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. If he succeeds there, I do not know how I can prove myself. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. "Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided.
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