And who shall paint the rapture of the prisoner, who tells himself, what yet he scarcely dares believe, 'This day I shall be free?' Who shall utter the gratitude which swells the heart of him whom this day has made free? That I was to go I knew not whither,--to subsist I knew not how,--could not damp the joys of deliverance. The wide world was indeed before me; but even that of itself was happiness. The free air,--the open face of heaven,--the unfettered grace of nature,--the joyous sport of animals,--the cheerful tools of man,--sounds of intelligence, and sights of bliss were there; and the wide world was to me, the native land of the exile, lovely with every delightful recollection, and populous with brethren and friends. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 19: Miss Percy's description is far, indeed, from exaggerating the horrors of some lunatic asylums in Edinburgh, as they existed twenty years ago. One of these, which was even more recently the disgrace of Scotland and of human nature, is now managed with great attention to the health and cleanliness of its miserable inmates.] CHAPTER XXV _Oh! grief has changed me since you saw me last; And careful hours, and time's deforming hand Have written strange defeatures in my face._ Shakspeare. Though I resisted all idea of returning, even for an hour, to the control of Mrs Boswell, it was thought necessary, since I had been confined upon her authority and at her expense, that, before my departure, she should be informed of my recovery, and consequent dismission. After waiting impatiently the return of a message despatched for this purpose; I learnt that Mr Boswell's house was shut up; the whole family having removed to the country. My kind friend, Dr ----, however, would not permit this to retard my departure. He undertook for Mrs Boswell's performance of her engagement; which, he said, he could easily compel, by threatening to expose her conduct. For my part, I had no doubt that she had fled from the fear of detection, and with the design of preventing her husband from discovering the barbarity she had practised; for I knew that it was not the love of rural life, nor even of the fashion, which could have roused Mrs Boswell to the exertion of travelling fifty miles.