He looked melancholy, whispered something they could not perfectly understand, and appeared wholly lost in his own painful reflections. Edwin again addressed him.--At hearing his voice he started, and gazed on him with a wild and vacant stare, as if he had never seen him before, looked at his dress, then at his own,--seemed struck by the contrast, and a faint smile came over his features, but it was the smile of internal sadness. It will not be thought superfluous, perhaps, if we stop a few moments, in order to describe, as well as we are able, the face, person, and dress, of this unfortunate young man. His complexion, from never having been exposed to either air or sun, was whiter and more delicate that that of Madeline: his large blue eyes were shaded by deeply-fringed eye-lashes, and arched with eye-brows which the nicest pencil of the painter could not have improved. His face was oval, his nose aquiline, and his mouth so exquisitely formed, as to give grace and expression to all the other features: he was much thinner, but some inches taller than Edwin; yet the whole of his appearance shewed that confinement and ill health had stolen, in their thievish and destroying progress, many of the natural graces from his face and person: his hair waved in careless ringlet over his forehead, and hung down some length on his shoulders; he was still wrapped in a loose morning gown, wore slippers, and his linen was of the finest texture. With some difficulty, but not without the assistance of Albert, they drew him by degrees into something like conversation; but he did not appear perfectly to understand all they said; and, when they mentioned the days beginning to lengthen, the increasing and reviving influence of the fun, the beaut of the moon and stars, he sighed,--wished he could see and admire them as other men did, and inquired if they thought any but himself and Albert were denied so many of the blessings which he had been told God had given for the use and benefit of all his creatures. Edwin replied, painful as it was to recollect, he had no doubt but at that moment thousands of the fellow-mortals sustained even greater hardships and deprivations than himself. "Must you and these sweet creatures ever do the same?" He hoped not, but fortune was so fickle in the favours she bestowed, and every thing so uncertain, it was impossible to tell what might or might not happen in the course of a few years. "It is surely very strange, (said the prisoner,) and I think those people, whose hard hearts and hands contrived and made prisons, are the most proper, indeed the only persons who should be forced to inhabit them."