that I, who saw it, succeeded in having it sent back to them. Without seeing me again, they mildly drew up another in quite different terms, which must be the last document recorded and docketed in my case. But my sanity now vindicated itself, and I was free, in spite of the protest which, by the side of the valuable opinion of the warders, robs Pecksniff Hall of all title to my 'cure.' I had still much to bear. For a long time, as I have said, I was represented as under 'delusions' about my relatives. The fact that they put me in an asylum, I presume, is scarcely one. Circumstances were as much against me as ever, and light-headedness would still threaten to recur, while asylum-dreams, of course, haunted me still more. They have left me at last; but I had to fight them down, and did this time--in Whose strength I have ventured, as I am bound, to say. I travelled again, and grew better, forcing myself to new interest in the scenes and people about me. At last, and in a happy hour for me, I married; though I had almost made up my mind that I never could. One relative wrote me an impertinent letter about this 'extraordinary step;' which is, as the young lady says in the comedy, 'a thing of frequent occurrence in the metropolis.' Another wrote to me within a week of my marriage to threaten me with the possibility of being shut up again. It frightened my young wife for some time, she has told me since; but she is a brave woman, and held her tongue. I next found myself charged with 'intemperate habits'--about as near the mark as forgery; and the silliness took away the sting. But it was not nice. It is better to atone for wrong than to excuse it by worse, I think; but it is a matter of taste. '_Liberavi animam meam._' My tale is told, as it was my clear duty to tell it, at the cost of some pain. Let those whose duty it is to mend this wickedness do theirs, or at their peril leave it undone. 'Mr. Hardress Cregan,' says Miles, in the 'Colleen Bawn,' 'I make you the present of the contempt of a rogue.' And, with infinite disgust and scorn, and small hope of better things, I dedicate this true story of the Bastilles of merrie England to all whom it may concern. 'L'ENVOI.'