When he had been confined twelve or fourteen days, left alone one afternoon, he managed to get on his clothes and crawl into the open air. He was a most forlorn and miserable wretch, emaciated, trembling, with a nauseous stomach and a reeling brain. The scene without was in full keeping with his feelings. The squares were empty and silent. The grass was growing in the deserted street. The air was thick, lurid, and quivering with a sickly heat, while to his distempered fancy, through the steamy haze above, the sun seemed to hang like a great yellow scab. At that moment a crocodile five or six feet long crept up in the gutter, and stared stupidly at him with its glazed and devilish eyes. Horrified, he shook his fist with a feeble cry at the ominous apparition, and the giant reptile waddled slowly away. He sat down on the curb-stone, faint and despairing, when who should come along but his good friend Captain Graham, just then landed at the wharf a few rods below! Gazing with astonishment at the haggard wreck before him, the captain exclaimed, "Why, good God, my boy, is that you?" "Yes," gasped the poor fellow, piteously, "this is all there is left of Edwin Forrest." The captain lifted him up and almost carried him to his boat, laid him on his own bed in the cabin, had him carefully sponged all over, first with warm water, finally with brandy, then gave him a heavy dose of raw whiskey. This acted as a benign emetic, and greatly relieved him. He fell asleep, and slept sweetly all night. The next day he returned to his lodgings convalescent. And in about three weeks he was well enough to start off with Caldwell and a part of his company on a theatrical tour through Virginia. The following letter tells us how he was then, and what he was doing: "PETERSBURG, July 26th, 1824. "BELOVED MOTHER,--I must indeed beg ten thousand pardons for not writing to you earlier. Although we are separated, think not you are forgotten by me. Oh, no, dear mother, you are ever in my memory, and your happiness is my greatest wish. I hope, my dear mother, in the course of three or four weeks, to be with you on a visit of a fortnight or so, but must then return here to perform at Richmond and Norfolk. I sincerely desire that this vacation may occur. Then I shall see you; and I assure you such a meeting will be as great a happiness as I can possess in this world.