te madhouses, and whose brain,
after years of misery, became at length unsettled, through irresistible
sympathy with the wretched beings among whom they were classed. This
shall not be my case, if, by strong internal resolution, it is in human
nature to avoid the action of exterior and contagious sympathies.

Meantime I sat down to compose and arrange my thoughts, for my purposed
appeal to my jailer--so I must call him--whom I addressed in the
following manner; having at length, and after making several copies,
found language to qualify the sense of resentment which burned in
the first, drafts of my letter, and endeavoured to assume a tone more
conciliating. I mentioned the two occasions on which he had certainly
saved my life, when at the utmost peril; and I added, that whatever was
the purpose of the restraint, now practised on me, as I was given to
understand, by his authority, it could not certainly be with any view
to ultimately injuring me. He might, I said, have mistaken me for some
other person; and I gave him what account I could of my situation and
education, to correct such an error. I supposed it next possible, that
he might think me too weak for travelling, and not capable of taking
care of myself; and I begged to assure him, that I was restored to
perfect health, and quite able to endure the fatigue of a journey.
Lastly, I reminded him, in firm though measured terms, that the
restraint which I sustained was an illegal one, and highly punishable
by the laws which protect the liberties of the subject. I ended by
demanding that he would take me before a magistrate; or, at least, that
he would favour me with a personal interview and explain his meaning
with regard to me.

Perhaps this letter was expressed in a tone too humble for the
situation of an injured man, and I am inclined to think so when I again
recapitulate its tenor. But what could I do? I was in the power of one
whose passions seem as violent as his means of gratifying them appear
unbounded. I had reason, too, to believe (this to thee, Alan) that all
his family did not approve of the violence of his conduct towards me; my
object, in fine, was freedom, and who would not sacrifice much to attain
it?

I had no means of addressing my letter excepting 'For the Squire's
own hand.' He could be at no great distance, for in the course of
twenty-four hours I received an answer. It was addressed to Darsie
Latimer, and contained these words: 'You have deman