and meet your eye with unblenched brow, because it is necessary to show you that in defence of my opinions I feel neither fear nor guilt--but when I walk from this place into the wilderness of the world, my steps will falter and my face will pale, because my path will lie over the grave of my child.' All I remember farther is that my tempter made a few not unfeeling remarks, and led me back in silence to my usual cell. The final efforts for my conversion were on this wise. The Rev. Mr. Cooper sent for me, a few days before my liberation, and asked me to follow him to the chapel. Arrived there, he ascended the pulpit, motioning me to a prisoner's pew without even asking me to be seated. My neck was stiff with a severe cold, and I was as ill able as ill disposed to be catechised. I stood leaning on the spikes--not inapt emblems of such Christian love as I had there been made acquainted with. The good Chaplain prayed--I did not move. He looked at me to catch my eye--I kept mine fixed on the spikes. He addressed me--I made no sign. He spoke some minutes--still I remained motionless. He paused and asked what I thought of his representations--I answered no word. He seemed to think he was making a favourable impression. He resumed, and came to another peroration, and again besought me to answer--still no motion, no word from me. He began a third time, and touched all serious topics which he could command, and came again to an elaborate peroration on deathbeds; and as I remained still silent and immovable, he said, somewhat perplexed this time, 'Holyoake, won't you speak?' I then answered 'Not while we occupy these places. Do you not preach to me and place me here where prisoners stand? I take this to be a ceremony, and not a conversation.' He walked down from his pulpit and asked me to accompany him, when he took me into several cells till he found one warmed with hot air, and asked would I speak with him there on friendly terms? I answered, 'with pleasure;' and there we conversed for the last time. I troubled him to repeat his arguments, as I would not admit that I had attended to a word. When he had done, I briefly assured him that my experience there had not created in me any desire to be a Christian: he had brought before me no new evidences, and as it had been found necessary to enforce those I knew before by penal reasons, the operation had rather diminished their weight in my estimation.