to a clearness of comprehension, and able
to follow him as he detailed how a certain Mr. Conway--the private
secretary of the minister--proved the receipt of the letter in question,
as well as two others in the same hand. The last of these--which
constituted the chief allegation against me--was then read aloud; and
anything more abominable and detestable it would be hard to conceive.
After recapitulating a demand for certain documents,--so vaguely worded
as to seem a mere invented and trumped-up request,--it went to speak
of great services unrewarded, and honorable zeal not only neglected
but persecuted. From this--which so far possessed a certain degree of
coherency and reason--it suddenly broke off into the wildest and most
savage menaces. It spoke of one who held life so cheaply that he felt no
sacrifice in offering it up for the gratification of his vengeance.

"Houseless, friendless, and starving; without food, without a
name,---for you have robbed me of even that,--I have crawled to your
door to avenge myself and die!"

Such were the last words of this epistle; and they ring in my ears even
yet, with shame and horror.

"I never uttered such sentiments as these,--words like those never
escaped me!" cried I, in an agony of indignation.

"There is the letter," said the magistrate; "do you deny having written
it?"

"It is mine,--it is in my own hand," muttered I, in a voice scarcely
audible; and I had to cling to the dock to save myself from falling.

Of what followed I know nothing, absolutely nothing. There seemed to be
a short debate and discussion of some kind; and I could catch, here and
there, some chance phrase or word that sounded compassionately towards
me. At last I heard the magistrate say,--

"If you tell me, Mr. Conway, that Mr. Pitt does not wish to press the
charge, nor do more than protect himself from future molestation, I am
willing to admit the prisoner to bail--good and sufficient bail--for his
conduct hereafter. In default of this, however, I shall feel bound to
commit him."

Again some discussion ensued, terminated by some one asking me if I
could produce the required securities.

By this time a slight reaction to my state of debility had set in,--that
fevered condition in which passion assumed the ascendant; and I
answered, haughtily,--

"Bail for whom? Is it for him to whom they refused bread that they will
go surety? Look at these rags, sir,--see these wasted arms,--hear this
voi